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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862675">We Both Go Down Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastesLikeRain/pseuds/TastesLikeRain'>TastesLikeRain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rick and Morty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Morty Smith, Bottom Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Coming Untouched, Consensual Underage Sex, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, First Time, Incest, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Rick joking about his loose asshole, Rick really misses Morty because he's been brooding in the garage for months, Rimming, Sex Pollen, Shotgunning, Spaceship Sex, Truth Serum, he's a stubborn snarky shit but a little softer too</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:41:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastesLikeRain/pseuds/TastesLikeRain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be a simple, harmless party, but with Rick, nothing is ever simple or harmless. Morty knows that better than anyone. Still, it's hard to keep that whole shameful "I want to fuck my grandpa" secret under wraps when you just swallowed a bunch of really potent Nuptian sex drugs that loosen your mouth <i>and</i> your legs. At least maybe now they'll talk about <i>why</i> they haven't really talked in months? You know... if Morty can keep his mouth off Rick long enough to actually say anything important...</p><p>(Takes place a few months after the season four finale. Get ready for a lot of smut with feelz and intense arguments in between.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>316</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We Both Go Down Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listen, that season 4 finale really fucked me up, and I just wanted to loosen the lips and hips of these boys with some truth serum/sex pollen so they could fuck, talk it out, and heal together. I think there's a lot to love here so I hope you enjoy it! Comments and kudos give me life. &lt;3 Thank you so much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/poysen">@poysen</a> for beta-ing this! You're a gem.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“H-holy fuck, Morty! Now you’re gettin’ into it, buddy!” Rick raised his cup in a toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Morty’s birthday weekend, and after much cajoling from Rick, he’d agreed to go to a Squanchy party. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“C-come on, Morty! Now that Birdperson’s worm food—ugh, bad joke—a Squanchy party is the best place in the galaxy to get wriggedy-wrecked! You’ve been acting like-URP-there’s a stick up your ass the size of a Scropon dildo. Let’s fucking party. Just you and me. It’s been f-forever,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rick had said, Morty’s cheeks heating as Rick’s arm tightened around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, Morty had relented because what was the alternative? Actually confess </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was nervous to be fucked up around Rick? No thanks. He experienced enough day to day humiliation in the ego-bruising halls of high school. He didn’t need anymore, especially at the hands of Rick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>good to relax with him again. Ever since Beth’s clone or… </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> clone had shown up, things between them had been strained at best. It was like a switch had been flipped, and all of Rick’s previous tactics for getting what he wanted (in exactly the </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wanted it) didn’t work anymore. Over the years, Morty had watched his mother develop awareness about her codependence, but in the end, she always backtracked. She was her father’s daughter, after all. Regression and denial were stamped into the Sanchez genes with a permanence that was hard to shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the strength of having another self-aware version of herself around, someone to turn to for validation, but this time it stuck. She kept her feet planted firmly in the “you can’t derail this family again” zone, and it sent a ripple effect through everyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Rick stayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one asked him to leave, but Rick was a muzzled dog now, his bark a muted, empty threat. Rick and Morty went on adventures sometimes, but it was like pretending to laugh at someone’s joke just to get to the next part of the conversation: a disingenuous routine that always left both of them more dejected than they’d been before they left. After a while, it petered out altogether, and Morty focused on being a normal teenager again, trying to care about all the incidental adolescent woes he’d never had time for before. Rick was there, but… not really. It was like a ghost impression of what had been, a gauzy hologram of memory hanging around in place of the real thing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was strange then that Rick had bothered to suggest this at all, but now that Morty was high on a combo of alien substances he couldn’t pronounce, the room filtered through a dreamy, euphoric curtain, he didn’t really care about the why and how of it. He was just happy to be spending time together without any awkwardness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How fucking long had it been since they’d done anything like this? Who else could give him a birthday this spectacularly weird? Everywhere Morty turned, there was a new sublimely confusing sight to behold: an alien made solely of tentacles creeping up the wall like a sentient vine, two amorphous neon green beings wrapping around each other in what Morty assumed was either a mating ritual or dancing, a prismatic light projecting around the room that turned out to be a living thing when Morty touched it, a game that looked like ping pong except it was played with tiny screaming creatures who exploded into dust every time they hit the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a time when all of this would have horrified Morty, sending him into a spiral of panic, but now it was just your average, lowkey day in interdimensional travel.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty plopped down on what he thought was a couch only for it to move, morphing from an l-shaped red lump to an upright standing creature with no eyes and two rows of razor-sharp teeth. It shrieked and hissed at Morty as he tumbled to the ground, the contents of his cup sloshing over his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you can’t assume the form of a fucking couch at a party and get pissed when an ass dents your spine!” Rick yelled at the creature. It waved a talon in Rick’s direction, hissing again before walking away. “Sorry about that, Morty.” Rick extended a hand, and Morty took it, letting Rick haul him up off the floor. “Snorfilax. Sneaky shapeshifting fuckers. I-I-I don’t like ‘em, Morty. You can’t trust creatures who hide for a living. And what’s with that tacky Dr. Seuss name? Shady shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick looked around the room, spotted an actual couch, and started toward it, motioning for Morty to follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad we’re-URP-doing this, Morty. I never see you anymore. I don’t know what you’re up to. M-m-maybe you’re about to give yourself an undercut and start making pseudo-David Lynch short films with some art school kids,” Rick said, wrapping an arm around Morty’s shoulders and gesticulating wildly with the other one, spilling booze on a nearby Gromflomite. The Gromflomite glared at Rick with an irritated shake of its mouth flaps, but Rick wasn’t paying attention. The truth was that everything Morty had been up to was far less interesting than Rick’s speculation, and Rick’s absence had filled him with a profound ache that no amount of high school mundanity could fill. Morty had thought he wanted a normal life, but now that he had it, he realized how painfully dull it was. Everything paled in comparison to his old life with Rick. Every girl he kissed, every pep rally yell he made in the bleachers, every stupid fucking test he took made him feel like a xerox of a person, a hollowed out shell just pretending to give a shit. “Before you know it, you’re gonna be eighteen and headed off to some second rate state school to m-m-major in ‘listening to Godspeed You! Black Emperor and dating chicks who read bell hooks.’ You’ll be getting pity fucks to Tori Amos songs. Y-y-you could come back a totally different man, Morty. We gotta spend some time together while we can, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty smiled, but he felt something shift and settle in the pit of his stomach. Although it was still years away, thinking about college was a bittersweet thing. The double-edged sword of freedom would mean less Rick, and even though recent events would suggest otherwise, that wasn’t an outcome Morty was keen to rush headlong toward. Purposely seeing less of him was one thing. To have the opportunity ripped away was another. Even when he was supremely confused about what he wanted, knowing Rick was just down the hall allowed Morty to fool himself into thinking nothing had really changed. He could rush down there and find Rick back to his old self, shedding the somber brooding countenance for the chipper nihilism Morty knew so well. As long as they were both still under the same roof, Morty could pretend. But if either of them left completely? That lended new finality to the situation, a stage that couldn’t be reversed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, with the way he felt about Rick, maybe it was for the best. Maybe he needed to get away as fast as he could and never look back. It wasn’t right to want to fuck your grandpa. The natural dissolution of their relationship was surely a blessing in disguise, an easy way out that Morty would do well to take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching Morty’s, and Morty tried not to think about how pretty and soft Rick’s eyes were when he was drunk and unguarded like this. It made his stomach twist in knots and his cock pulse in ways he knew it absolutely shouldn’t. His growing distance from Rick had made it easier to forget, but now, inhibitions melting away with every drink he took, it came rushing back with an alarming ferocity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Yeah… you’re right. We should do this more often.” Morty tucked his feet up under his butt, angling his bent knees until they rested on Rick’s lean thigh. Rick didn’t move. Could he see the bloom in Morty’s cheeks? Did he know why it was there? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah, Morty!” Rick grabbed two gelatinous cubes from a tray held out by a nearby Glootie. The transparent substance jiggled and shimmered, pulsing colors that reminded him of Fart, that gaseous being he’d once killed. It felt like a decade ago. Time with Rick passed by so nebulously; trying to grasp it was like closing a fist around smoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick handed Morty a cube, eagerly swallowing the other one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the beginning of the night, Morty would have asked what the fuck he was about to put down his throat, but that was several drinks and countless bong rips of perspective-enhancing alien pheromones ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cube tasted like a hundred things at once. Morty could taste and smell chocolate, pineapple, milk, honey, lavender, and many other nameless, glorious things whose existence he couldn’t describe. It was like walking past a smell that evoked a memory but not being able to pull that memory from your mind. Even though he was tasting things he couldn’t identify, he had the unshakeable sense that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooohhh, shit! I don’t know what the fuck we just took, brother, but I am ready to riiiiide this wave!” Rick laughed, and Morty did too, the sound coming back to his ears in a distorted echo. His knee was still resting on Rick’s thigh. Was it Morty’s imagination or did it feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> good? Like… suspiciously good? Fireworks shooting through every nerve kind of good? </span>
  <span>Morty reached out and rubbed Rick’s shoulder, experimenting with the touch to see what would happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty felt like he was going to come, but also not? It was weird. Like his body was sitting in that high arousal point right before orgasm without tipping over. Just soaking in it over and over again. It felt great. In fact, it was the most fucking amazing feeling Morty had ever experienced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm, that’s nice, Morty. Hey, how about um…” Rick’s neck fell back onto the couch, his head swiveling until he was looking right at him, his drugged eyes glazed over. “G-g-give grandpa a back rub, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty wanted to. Jesus fucking Christ did he want to, but it was wrong to take advantage of this, right? If Rick actually knew how Morty felt, he wouldn’t be inviting this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, maybe that wasn’t entirely true… </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Give grandpa a kiss. G-g-gimme—give grandpa a kiss.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The memory flashed across Morty’s mind, and he could feel everything as though it were happening right now: the stale, liquored scent of Rick’s breath, the nervous flutter of his own heart as Rick crawled closer, the heat traveling up his neck when he finally kissed Rick on the forehead, the cold sweat he broke into when Rick withdrew and left him alone, a puddle of confused emotion leaking out onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, come on, Mor-Morty. People go into shady massage parlors where they haven’t cleaned the tables since the Reagan administration. They let strangers touch them, the f-f-fuckin’ jizz of old lonely accountants all over the place, but you think this is weird?” Rick put his hand on Morty’s knee, and the whole room seemed to warp, melting into kaleidoscopic streaks of vibrant light. Morty’s heart was racing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-okay, Rick. Um… turn around?” Every cell of Morty’s body was begging to just slide into the comfort of the couch cushions, the velvety red fibers feeling sooooo good against his skin, but he sat up, trying not to lose his mind when Rick took his lab coat off and turned to the right, offering up his back for Morty to touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty tried to be tentative about it, to slowly touch Rick’s shoulders like it wasn’t a big deal, like he wasn’t dying to run his hands over every inch of him, to nose in his hair and kiss the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since they’d touched at all, and Morty wanted to hold Rick so close, he could never get away again. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he didn’t seem to have much control over his own body. All logic and reason flew the coop when his fingers met Rick’s shoulders. He let out an embarrassing moan, but it was thankfully covered up by Rick’s louder one. The sound made Morty so painfully hard, he debated sprinting out of there, finding refuge outside and taking a minute to calm the fuck down. Things were rapidly getting out of hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magic fingers, Morty. Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Don’t stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick’s praise made Morty’s eyes roll back into his head, his fingers roaming up and down Rick’s back eagerly, getting his fill and forgetting to be ashamed of it. He rubbed Rick’s neck, dug his thumbs into the firm muscles on either side of his spine, the dip of his lower back, his hands dangerously close to Rick’s ass, and the entire party faded away to a barely audible hum. All Morty could see and hear was Rick: his breathy groans, the rise and fall of his shoulders, that tangy, pungent scent of machinery and booze that always wafted off him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uuuuhhh, Morty… m-m-maybe you should st</span>
  <em>
    <span>—ooohhh—” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rick’s muscles went slack like warm honey in Morty’s palms, and he stared at the nape of Rick’s neck, a tantalizing strip of exposed skin he absolutely needed to lick. A magnetic pull drew him in closer and closer, each second ticking by like the countdown of a bomb Morty couldn’t diffuse. His lips hovered above the bump at the top of Rick’s spine. He could see the fine hairs there. All he had to do was— “Oh fuck, I know what this is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick jumped up and off the couch, and Morty braced himself for the most uncomfortable conversation of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-Rick, I didn’t mean to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. It’s those fucking Nuptians. Who the fuck invited them? They always ruin a party because they treat it like their own p-p-personal controlled experiment.” Rick grabbed Morty’s hand, something strange and alert passing over his eyes before he took off running. Morty clumsily trailed behind him, muttering apologies as he bumped into partygoers on the way out. “I mean, I get it. What better place to round up a bunch of horny, lonely fucks desperate to find some idiot to make miserable for the rest of their days? Parties are a very convenient cross section of evolutionary failure on all levels.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They staggered outside and ran toward the clearing where they’d parked the ship. Rick opened the door, and Morty climbed in after him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, it’s like…” Rick hit a few buttons and the front seats of the ship disappeared into recessed hatches in the floor, the console expanding a little. “Save the intersection of biology, marriage counseling, and sad bachelor libidos for your home planet labs, you know? If I’m coming here to get so fucked up, I wake up on a different planet then where I passed out, I’m not looking to be anyone’s unpaid guinea pig.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was opening compartments and furiously mixing vials without looking up. When he pressed the cloaking device button, Morty let out a low exhale. At least he wouldn’t have any spectators for this. Morty felt like his veins had been filled with lava, and he had the weirdest notion that the only way to make it go away was to come. With Rick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, R-Rick, I feel really—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’m working as fast as I can. I’ll take care of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty twisted his hands in his t-shirt, trying desperately to keep his fingers busy. He had the uncontrollable urge to strip, but even in the back of his drug-addled mind, he knew that was a bad idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-it fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rick. It feels like if I don’t—wait, did you just call me baby?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick paused for a fraction of a second. It probably wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else, but Morty saw it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay okay, where the fuck is—are you fucking kidding me?!” Rick thrust his hands into his hair and then slammed his fist on the ship’s console, beakers and vials rattling in their perches. “I-I-I got some bad news, Morty. I can make an antidote for this, but it’s going to take at least three hours, give or take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why?! I thought you could do anything! You’re so fucking fond of reminding me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Morty! Now’s not the time to be playing our bantery </span>
  <em>
    <span>His Girl Friday </span>
  </em>
  <span>game. I can do anything when I have what I need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. The problem is that I don’t, and synthesizing Nuptonium with Plutonic Quarks is just too… the compounds are unstable as fuck, and I don’t want to blow up this whole fucking ship. I’m out of Penp Juice. I haven’t stocked the ship that well lately. Look, three hours of pain isn't my idea of a good time either—not to mention the whole ‘trapped in an elevator’ sitcom episode vibe this has—but we’ll have to deal. It’s better than dying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just portal somewhere and get what you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to leave you like this, no idea when I’m coming back? Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m coming back? Correct me if I’m wrong, Morty, but past experience suggests that your particular brand of needy, childish insecurity demands that I sit with you and hold your hand so you don’t cry to your therapist about this two months from now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick spun around to look at Morty, but the moment he did, the fury in his eyes subsided, leaving an unmistakable lust that made the searing discomfort in Morty’s body amp up to level eleven. Morty stretched out his hand, an offering, and Rick stared down at it like it was a venomous snake.      </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant metaphorically, not literally. Jesus, Morty…” Rick bit his lip, and Morty squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through the bout of… whatever it was jolting his system to painful sensory awareness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Rick. Just… I need you to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Morty, but that’s exactly why I need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch you right now. The repercussions would be catastrophic, and I’ve had enough Morty-related catastrophe for a fucking lifetime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Y-you know, this is just typical, Rick! You bring me here like it’s gonna be some great night where nothing bad happens, where we just have some normal fun for once, and we end up twitching and drugged out. I don’t wanna fight with you, Rick. Just… fix this or fuck me!” Morty slapped a hand over his mouth. Where the hell had that last part come from? He definitely hadn’t meant to say that. It was exactly the kind of perverted sentiment he kept carefully confined to locked up chambers of his mind. Chambers with so many failsafes of repression that Morty was sure they would stay buried in their tombs forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“G-g-great. I guess phase two is already here. But if that’s true—” Rick looked at him intently, his narrow eyes searching Morty’s face. Morty wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to figure out, but he had a pretty good feeling it had to do with why he’d just asked his grandfather to fuck him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick, it’s not the drugs doing this. I mean, y-yeah, it’s making it worse, but I’ve—this isn’t new. Me wanting to…” What was wrong with him?! Why were his thoughts dropping from his brain onto his tongue like a gumball machine someone kept cranking without his permission?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s how this shit works, Morty.” Rick hung his head in his hands and let out a long, deeply frustrated groan. “It’s not just an aphrodisiac. It’s way more complicated than that. It’s part sexual enhancement, part truth serum, and part bonding agent that acts on already established attachment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, Morty. I can see the months haven’t wised you up. Still slow as molasses on the uptake.” Rick rolled his eyes. “What are the Nuptians famous for, Morty? Think! They designed this manipulative shit for use in their marriage counseling clinic. It a-a-amps up your libido to thoughtless rabbit levels to help you overcome whatever sexual problems you’re having, but it’s like a time release course of aphrodisiac. I-i-it’s divided into heats with periods of rest between so the truth serum component can work it’s magic after you’ve fucked yourselves into oblivion. A two-fold solution to your marital woes, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems kinda dangerous, Rick. L-like—what if two people take it by accident like how we did? Would wreak a lot of havoc if it, like, got in the water supply and turned everyone into sex maniacs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes and no. It doesn’t work like that. Not exactly. Like I said, there’s a third purpose to the drug, and that’s to locate and bind with the person you already have an attachment to. It works through partial brain mapping and pheromones and a lot of shit I th-think is Gwynnie Paltrow New Age pseudo-science, but whatever. What do I know? Those fuckers get results or they wouldn’t have that amazing success rate. You have to already be... it can’t draw out what isn’t there, Morty. No water from an empty well and all that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that means…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re both sick fucks.” Rick’s bitter tone made Morty’s heart sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s sick.” As the words left his mouth, Morty was surprised to realize they were true. He’d been so sure that all of the shame he’d felt indicated the opposite, but maybe his shame wasn’t about a belief that his attraction was wrong. Maybe he was just ashamed of what other people would think. After all, Morty had a bad habit of caring too much about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re a moron, Morty. I don’t think your endorsement is gonna do much for breaking down the cultural stigma of incest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, fuck you, Rick! Like you said, can’t draw water fr-from an empty well. You’re right here with me, whether or not you want to be.” Morty tried to cross his arms defiantly, but the contact just made the fiery itch under his skin kick up another notch. Was there no end to this? Every time he thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, it shot up to somewhere between “gunshot wound” and “enemy digging his thumb into my gunshot wound.” Pretty high rankings on the suffering scale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m sorry, Morty. There’s just a lot to process right now. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m…” Rick sighed and then winced against what Morty assumed was a wave of the same unpleasant sensations he was experiencing. “Believe me, I’m well aware of how I feel about you. I just usually don’t have an audience for those thoughts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C-can we jerk off? Will that help?” Morty tried to ignore Rick’s confession, the way it unlocked the mental prison cells that housed his inappropriate love for Rick. They couldn’t do this. They just </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. The drug links the two of you, including your relief. It’s some soul bonding garbage, Morty. P-p-pull up your fanfic tabs, Morty. We’re in a bonafide ‘fuck or die’ trope. M-m-maybe we can just—aaarrgghh—” Rick clawed at his own stomach and doubled over, “last until this antidote stabilizes.” Rick checked the countdown timer that had begun after he brewed the batch of color-changing liquid. “Fuck! Ten minutes have gone by?! Piece of shit—fucking Nuptian fucks—fucking goddamn—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty surged forward and, holding Rick’s face between his hands, he kissed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The relief was instant. Like chilled aloe on a sunburn, a sprinkler’s refreshing spray after the merciless summer heat. It soothed every irritated inch of him, spreading like an injection, flooding his veins until he sighed into Rick’s mouth, pulling him closer with a hand on his lower back. Morty wanted to slow down, to map every second of this, but it was all too fast and hot and beautiful, like a stream of endless pretty scenery blinking by the window of a speeding car. He devoured Rick’s mouth like he might die if he stopped, kissing and licking and biting with no real sense of finesse. Just blinding need.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was too clumsy, Rick didn’t seem to notice or care. He responded with equal hunger, his hands skating down Morty’s back, tugging at his shoulders and hair, sucking Morty’s bottom lip into his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morty, I-I want to. You have no fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> how much I want to, but it’s just… I have to tell you… it’s gonna make everything we feel that much worse. It’s better if we stop now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you still touching me?” Morty tipped his head back as Rick’s lips made their way across his jaw and down his neck, his teeth scraping across Morty’s pulse point. He could feel Rick’s clothed erection colliding with his own, their eager hips bucking together, desperately seeking friction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I can’t stop,” Rick confessed in a breathless whine that made Morty’s cock twitch. “T-t-tell me to stop, Morty. You have to say it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick’s hands ran down Morty’s back, squeezing his ass, thrusting against him. Morty moaned and bit down on Rick’s shoulder. Rick let out a groan that ended in a muttered ‘fuck.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I w-won’t do that, Rick. I don’t want you to stop. Not now… not ever.” Morty pushed the hem of Rick’s shirt up, exposing his slim stomach, and Rick wriggled the rest of the way out of it. He started to unbutton his pants, but Morty stopped him, both of them shivering at the ripple of pleasure that radiated from Morty’s hand on his. It was like an invisible thread of electricity followed every touch, igniting it into something overwhelmingly powerful that Morty never wanted to end. “Let me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick gulped and nodded tightly, gasping softly as Morty sank to his knees, working Rick’s zipper down, taking off his pants and boxers, Rick’s cock hard and flushed, ready for Morty to touch and taste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty looked up at him, his hands stroking Rick’s thighs, seeking permission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morty…” Rick’s eyes were heavy-lidded, an awestruck glassy tint to them that made pride swell within Morty. He wrapped his hand around the base of Rick’s cock, stroking the thick length, so drunk on the idea that he was allowed to do this. Rick was </span>
  <em>
    <span>letting</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. Morty wet his lips, his heart caught in his throat as he leaned forward and licked across the tip, the skin warm and soft on his tongue. It seemed impossible that any part of this rough man could feel so delicate. Morty rolled the foreskin back and took the head into his mouth, suckling gently, moaning at the taste of Rick’s salty pre-come, the feeling of Rick’s hand sinking into his hair, tugging gently at the root, pushing his cock a little further into Morty’s mouth. Without warning, Rick yanked him back and pulled him up by the shoulders, sealing their mouths again, walking Morty backward until his legs met the backseat of the ship. They fell down together, Rick landing on top of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty couldn’t help but grin like an idiot as he looked up at the stars through the clear roof, Rick’s warm weight pressing him down into the seat as he mouthed at Morty’s neck. Rick sat up long enough to take Morty’s shirt off and get to work on his jeans, but after he pulled Morty’s underwear down around his thighs, he paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t say you don’t want to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I-I think you should top. I don’t think I’m gonna be very… I feel really fucking crazy, Morty. I don’t think I could take my time the way you need.” Rick opened a compartment on the right side of the ship and took out a little bottle, tossing it to Morty. “I’m loose as fuck. It’ll be like bouncing a quarter down a hallway, Morty. You can just go at it. No prep necessary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-um, okay.” Morty stood up and shucked off his underwear, quivering at the sight of Rick lying down on the backseat, legs pulled up and back, just waiting for Morty to fuck him. He had imagined this in many, many different smutty combinations, but this? This is absolutely not how he thought it would go. That wasn’t to say he was disappointed. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’d just always assumed Rick would fuck him with no regard for his comfort, take everything he wanted from Morty and leave him wrung out and helpless, gruffly getting dressed and never speaking of it again. With shaking hands, Morty coated his cock and kneeled between Rick’s legs, not daring to meet Rick’s eyes, afraid his already fragile composure would crumble to bits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can turn around if you uh… if you don’t want to…” Rick gestured to his face, and Morty felt a stab of regret. Rick thought Morty didn’t want to look at him when they did this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No no, it’s not… Rick, I’m just really n-nervous. I’m sorry, I don’t know—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick wrapped his hand around Morty’s cock and guided it inside him. Morty moaned Rick’s name, the heat of his body too perfect around his cock. He didn’t know if Rick had just been joking, but it felt plenty tight to him. As he bottomed out, he finally hazarded a glance in Rick’s direction, rewarded by a lust-drunk smile that he felt in his whole body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey,” Morty said shyly, leaning forward until his elbows rested on either side of Rick’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, baby,” Rick said softly, pulling Morty in for a kiss, his hand on the back of Morty’s neck. When he broke away, his voice was a little sharper, hints of the old Rick Morty knew and loved shining through. “This is sweet and all, but I need to be fucked </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now</span>
  </em>
  <span> because I feel like I’m about to literally die unless I come, and I’m guessing it’s the same for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty nodded with a small chuckle and pulled almost all the way out, pushing back in with one long, hard thrust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah, that’s it. K-keep fucking me, Morty. Come on. I know you can do it. Think about all the times I made you so fucking angry, you wanted to kill me. Now’s your chance. Fucking punish me for all of it, Morty. All of it.” Rick was rambling so fast, his nails scratching insistently at Morty’s back, leaving bites down Morty’s chest. He seemed possessed, half out of his mind. Morty wondered if he really knew what he was saying. “F-fuck me like you wanna hurt me, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t have turned Morty on so much, but his brain was filled with a loop of </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes yes fucking take it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wanted to refute the idea that he would ever want to treat Rick like that, but this drug was stripping away all the lies Morty told himself. Part of him did want to punish Rick; he deserved it. He started fucking him at a brutal pace, pinning his thin wrists above his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you want?” Morty asked, surprised at the way his voice came out in a low growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick nodded dazedly, his eyelids fluttering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many times have you been fucked like this, Rick?” When he didn’t answer, Morty tightened his fingers around Rick’s wrists. Rick groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, but it didn’t seem like he was in pain, or at least not the bad kind. There was a lovely flush painting his cheeks, a blissed out half-smile spreading across his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You w-wanna hear about it, Morty? Is that what gets you going?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty looked down at the man underneath him and didn’t understand how, despite being held down and fucked by his grandson, Rick still managed to look smug, a challenging, evil little curve to the right side of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I just like—thinking about you like that—fucking someone, being fucked, touching yourself—I like it all,” Morty grunted out between thrusts, placing his hands on the back of Rick’s thighs and pushing his knees all the way to his chest. They let out a collective moan, the angle so deep and just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Morty felt like he was going to come any second now. Rick started fisting his own cock, and Morty tried to commit the image to memory. Everything was whizzing by way too fast, and Rick looked so perfect, his head thrown back as he stuttered out broken moans, touching himself while Morty pounded into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-do you remember that time with Unity? They tied me up and fucked me one after the other. I-I kept wishing you’d walk in and start watching me, Morty.” Rick laughed a little, the sound cut off by a particularly hard thrust, Rick’s body scooting up the seat. “I thought about you jerking off and telling me what a slut I was. Coming closer and kissing me… licking my nipples, coming on my face. When I came, I was thinking about you, Morty. I-I-I’m always—I’m always thinking about you when I come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you’re so beautiful, Rick,” Morty whispered, tracing his fingers across Rick’s open lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Rick croaked out, turning his head to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are. You’re so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop it, Morty,” Rick snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to tell you how much I hate you instead? Tell you about all the times you treated me like I didn’t matter? Made me wish you’d leave and never fucking come back? Want me to hit you? Is that better, Rick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick didn’t say anything, just nodded almost imperceptibly. If Morty didn’t know better, he’d think Rick was actually embarrassed by how much he wanted this. Morty let go of Rick’s wrists and wrapped his hand around his throat, threading the other through Rick’s hair, pulling his head back, forcing Rick to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this how you wanna come? With my hand around your neck?” Morty was so close, his whole body was ready to burst. The sight of Rick pliant and submissive beneath him, ready to take anything from Morty, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as Morty came inside him, he saw something unbearably sad in Rick’s eyes. It was the same look he’d grown accustomed to seeing from Rick these past few months. It was the look of a man who had given up, who was looking at everything around him as though it was the last time he’d see it, desperate to take it all in so he wouldn’t forget anything. With a deep, guttural groan, Rick spilled onto his own hand, his warm come splashing against Morty’s stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty collapsed forward, his forehead resting on Rick’s chest, catching his breath, sweat cooling on his skin. With a grunt, Rick shifted underneath him, pushing gently at Morty’s shoulder. He took the hint and slid off Rick, curling into his side.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick kept his eyes toward the ceiling, but Morty could tell he was still wearing that somber expression. It was always alarming to see him so… flat. Rick was a bombastic person. You could sense his presence in a room the very moment he got there, the energy changing from stagnant to crackling and alive, but now? Most of the time Rick was all muttered words and dead eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick? D-did I go too far? Did you not… like it?” Morty’s head was suddenly brimming with his usual anxiety spiel, an endless second-guessing of everything he’d said and done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I liked it, Morty. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. That’s the problem,” was the only reply he got, Rick heaving a solemn sigh and closing his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what’s wrong? I mean, if you loved it, I—why are you…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know how to begin to answer that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have to? I mean, because of the truth serum?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truth is—i-it’s a relative concept, Morty. It’s defined by the individual. It’s like that toxicity machine. You c-c-can’t slap a universal standard on it, which is why I called it pseudo-science. I can throw out obfuscating verbiage all day long. I can give you cryptic snippets that add up to nothing. Any halfwit can work around a truth serum, particularly when you’re already aware it’s happening, which I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> and especially when you’re a fucking genius, which I </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cut the shit, Rick. Just talk to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This drug isn’t a cure-all for communication problems. It’s a tongue-loosener for sentimental simpletons with no dominion over their own fucking brains. I’m still me, Morty. That hasn’t and won’t change. Not tonight. Not ever.” Rick clamped his lips together as if to ward off any impending words threatening to tumble out, and although Morty was sure it was meant to be menacing and unnegotiable, it was hilarious. Like a kid holding their breath during a temper tantrum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you trying not to talk for the rest of the night? Really?” Morty covered his mouth to stifle his snickers. Rick turned his head to fix Morty with a glare. “Oh come on, Rick! Are you still that afraid of being honest? Look where not talking has gotten you. We’re drifting further apart every day. Can things really get any worse? Maybe if we lay it all out on the table, we can start over.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no starting over, Morty. That-that’s a Hollywood myth. Human beings are vindictive assholes with long memories and a deep capacity for grudges. They don’t want to forgive and forget. They want to punish and feel righteous while doing it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not everyone, Rick. It’s definitely not me. You know that. I know you do.” Morty brushed back an unruly lock of hair that had fallen over Rick’s forehead. His hair was surprisingly fine and soft. Morty loved running his fingers through it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick’s lips twitched, an angry flush creeping up his neck, and Morty knew it was only a matter of time. Rick couldn’t resist verbally sparring with him. Rick loved to stake a claim on being irrefutably right, but that was never enough for him. He had to get Morty to admit it too, to succumb to his supposed superiority. At first, Morty had just chalked this up to Rick’s generally pervasive egotism. But eventually, he realized that Rick wasn’t like this with everyone. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morty’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> opinion that mattered, and there was a power in that which could be exploited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or maybe you’re just too scared?” Morty asked, leaning up on his elbow, his head resting in his palm as he smirked down at Rick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, Morty, you-you want to know what’s bothering me? You want to know what I’m thinking about after I just had sex with my fucking grandson? You know what I want, Morty? What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> want?” Rick turned onto his side and grabbed Morty by the shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Morty kept his gaze steady. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to want and need me and </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. I want you to leave your family at the drop of a hat for me. I want you to have nothing in your fucking life but me. I want to be the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. I don’t want anybody else to ever kiss you, touch you, fuck you again for the rest of your life. I want to be your whole goddamn universe. There’s no room for anyone else. Is that what you really want, Morty? To be mine like that? Because I don’t know how we’re going to come back from this, Morty. And I don’t want to erase your memory. I’m done with that shit. I don’t want to play God anymore. I don’t want to decide who gets what memories, especially my own. Maybe everyone should live with everything, no matter how royally they fucked up, but there’s no goddamn winning here, Morty. If I keep this memory, I get to feel like a grandson-fucking piece of shit forever, but if I get rid of it, it’s not really gone. Because I wanted this. And you wanted this. And that shit isn’t going away no matter how much memory excision I do, is it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, Rick. That’s... a lot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no fucking kidding.” Rick let go of Morty's shoulders and flopped down onto his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Part of me likes it though. I mean… I know I shouldn’t, but I do.” Morty smiled as Rick’s brow furrowed. “You always gave me attention when my parents didn’t. When </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> one else did, really. Things are better now, but back then, when you first showed up… I-I felt like I could be on fire, and they wouldn’t really notice. But you? Even when it was shitty attention, it was still... I liked being the center of your world, being the thing you obsessed about. You always acted l-like I was such a moron whose opinion didn’t matter, except it absolutely did. You care so much about what I think of you. You went through a lot of trouble to keep my opinion of you where you wanted it. And you can say that’s not true if you want. It used to bother me when you’d backtrack, but it doesn’t anymore? I know the truth and so do you. That doesn’t change even when you deny it. You can’t take that away from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick gave him a long, lingering look, but Morty couldn’t decipher its meaning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Infinite things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick,” Morty groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mooorrttyy,” Rick answered with a sardonic eye roll. “I told you. Truth serums are vague drugs with easy workarounds. I’m never thinking just one thing. At any given time, my brain is following countless trains of thought. Individual ones, intersecting ideas, tangential rants. It’s one gargantuan, complicated river shooting off into more directions than most simple ape brains. Your idiot father? Now that’s a prime c-c-candidate for this hoodoo shit. His mental toolbox can only handle one wrench at a time. If you want answers from me, you’ll have to be more specific.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty smiled, and Rick crossed his arms with a frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I-I don’t like whatever this is.” Rick gestured to Morty’s face. “What the fuck is going on in that head of yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to be more specific, Rick.” Morty’s grin widened, and Rick’s glower intensified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wipe that smug ass grin off your face, Morty. H-H-How about this? If you’re so fucking all-knowing, why do you need answers? Apparently you know everything I’m feeling even if I say otherwise,” Rick imbued the words with a heavy layer of sarcasm that made Morty want to slap him, “s-s-so what’s the difference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I deserve it. That’s the difference. I know my worth now, and I deserve to hear you tell me.” The words sent a blazing trail of revelation alight in Morty’s brain. He was starting to really love this truth serum. It wasn’t just about being honest with someone else. It was about being honest with yourself too, and Morty felt like all of these tenuous, complicated ideas, things that had been bothering him for months, were starting to sift into piles, sorting themselves into manageable, neatly labeled boxes. All the words he couldn’t quite grasp before were coming to him with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s… kinda making me really fucking hard, Morty. Either that or the second wave of horny juice is coming on. Okay, it’s probably a little of column A, a little of column B,” Rick said with a shrug and a crooked smile. As though the signals were bouncing from Rick’s brain into his (and maybe they were, all things considered), Morty felt a tingle starting in his thighs and rising to his groin. “So am I the only geriatric you want to raw or d-d-do I have to put out an APB for all the nursing homes to watch out for the grandpa fucker?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I the only teenage boy whose dick you wanna suck or do I have to tell all the high schools to be on alert for elderly pervs with blue hair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-whoa, watch out. He’s got jokes. He’s got zingers. You send in your packet for late night yet, Morty? They love that hacky shit. You’ll fit right in.” They shared an amiable laugh, and Morty’s heart warmed at the familiarity of it. At the same time, it hurt to remember how regular these moments used to be. Now they were few and far between. They weren’t so much partners in crime as strangers who used to be friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss this,” Morty said softly, cradling Rick’s cheek in one hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why’d you leave me?” Rick’s eyes widened; he looked every bit as shocked at those words as Morty was. He closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously, taking a deep breath before opening them again. “I guess my control over this shit slips a little when another sexytime wave is cresting. Let’s just forget I said that, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty wanted to argue, but he could feel the intense throb beginning to build in his body. He knew he was only a few minutes away from being completely useless in a heavy discussion like that, all mental faculties traded for pure animal instinct. It would have to wait until they’d ridden through this next stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, okay,” Morty said with a nod, leaning into Rick’s touch as fingers carded through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It gets less intense with each heat,” Rick said, pressing kisses to Morty’s forehead, his cheeks, his jawline, “a gradual deceleration so you don’t end up with a devastating serotonin drop, like a fucking raver in 1999. But this is only number two so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty wanted to ask how he knew so much about this, but he couldn’t form much of a thought beyond </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t stop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully it’s less urgent than round one. I-I-I wanna take my time with you, Morty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you.” Rick’s voice dipped low and lurid, his hand running up and down Morty’s thigh, his tongue swiping across Morty’s nipple. “I thought about us fucking in this ship a lot, but now I’m kind of sad it has to go down like this. This thing hasn’t been cleaned since God knows when. Probably all sorts of alien diseases and fluid floating around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, Rick. I don’t want to think about that right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-s-sorry, you’re right. Bad bedroom talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s kind of fitting for us though. Don’t you think? We’ve been through so much in this ship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. It’s the scene of the crime in every sense of the phrase.” Rick hooked his leg around Morty’s waist and used the leverage to flip them over, Morty onto his back, Rick above him. Rick’s eyes darted around like he was searching for something but couldn’t focus. They were both starting to really feel it now: greedy hips automatically thrusting, breaths turning short and shallow. “Where’s that fucking lube? Fuck it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick pressed a slightly raised point on the floor, and a three-tiered rack popped up. He plucked a tube from it and pressed the compartment back into the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many places do you have lube stashed around here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a spaceship, Morty. There’s lube everywhere. Who-who the fuck do you think invented Astroglide?” Rick kneeled between Morty’s legs, and Morty spread them in anticipation, drawing his knees back a little. Rick gave him a lewd grin that made Morty’s blood boil. “You’re such a good boy, Morty. Getting ready for me like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty felt Rick’s fingertips circling his rim, the cold shock of the lube, and his ass pushed down, trying to draw Rick’s fingers inside. Morty whimpered, and Rick chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so fucking delicious, Morty. My pretty, needy little boy. You want it so bad, don’t you?” Rick purred, slipping two fingers inside. Morty nodded. The haze of desire he saw in Rick’s eyes was overwhelming. He’d wanted Rick to look at him like that for so long. It didn’t seem possible that it was finally happening. Rick leaned forward, bringing them chest to chest, murmuring in Morty’s ear as he began to thrust his fingers in and out. “Being good in bed is about knowing what the other person wants. It’s about reading people, and I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking good at that, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I th-think you have to be a little less selfish to figure out what people want, Rick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick thrust his fingers in hard and bit the shell of Morty’s ear. Morty bit his lip and clawed at Rick’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you’re so clever, Morty. Off the fucking charts with the retorts, today. Just because I don’t indulge your every fucking whim doesn’t mean I don’t know what your whims are. There’s a time and place. If I let your hormonal teenage compass run our adventures, we’d be dead in five minutes. But right now? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the time for it. And I do know what you want. You want me to take my time, give it to you slow and hot because you’re scared, and you need it to be nice. Also we’re on a lot of fucking drugs so it helps that every brush of a hand feels like coming. Later, you’ll want me to fuck you so hard you can’t think, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you will, but right now you want me to teach you and take care of you, and I’m really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking into that, Morty. F-f-fucking salivating for it.” Rick rubbed his fingers across Morty’s prostate, a firm but gentle stroke that had Morty whining and bucking his hips. “You’re grandpa’s good boy, aren’t you, baby?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck… Ri-Rick… when you say shit like that, I—” Morty didn’t finish that thought. Rick scraped his teeth across a nipple, still steadily rubbing Morty from the inside, and he couldn’t do anything but moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s exactly why I say shit like that, baby. God, you really moan like a bitch in heat, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m sorry.” Morty slung a forearm over his eyes. He was pretty embarrassed by the loud, wanton noises he was making, but trying to stop them only made it worse. Like holding in a laugh only to blurt it all out and make everyone in the room turn your way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not something to be sorry for. It’s fucking hot, Morty.” Rick pried Morty’s arm away, meeting his eyes. “The only time you’re allowed to stop is when you’re choking on my cock, understood?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty pictured himself on his knees for Rick, Rick’s hands on the back of his head, fucking Morty’s mouth, his dick so far down his throat, spit dribbled out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-y-you like that idea? So stuffed with my dick that you can’t make a single sound?” Rick’s fingers were fucking in and out of Morty, making him want Rick’s dick so badly he could barely stand it. It felt amazing, but he wanted to be full, stretched wide on Rick’s cock until he could feel it long after it was over. Rick kept covering every inch of Morty’s skin with kisses, biting and soothing over the marks with his tongue. Looking down and seeing Rick’s strong lithe shoulders, the slope of his back and the curve of his ass… this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It wasn’t a vision Morty had conjured under the heat of his blanket at night, furiously stroking his dick as though he could outpace the shame of what he was thinking about to get off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-Rick, fuck me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I need you.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Rick shook his head with a wicked smile, giving Morty a slow, deep kiss, pulling back a little when Morty moaned, making Morty chase his tongue. Rick kept playing with him like that, swiping just the tip of his tongue across Morty’s lips and withdrawing only to surge back in hard and insistent, probing every corner of Morty’s mouth and then pulling back once again, making Morty work for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-stop,” Morty said weakly. He felt like he was in some sort of feverish trance, so warm from the inside out, everything responding to even the slightest touch from Rick. Was it possible to come with your whole body? Morty couldn’t tell what swells of pleasure were connected to which parts of him; everything was one big raw nerve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t like being teased, baby? Cause you look like you’re having the time of your fucking life. Just writhing around and moaning like a shameless little slut who’d do anything I wanted.” Rick was panting now, his pupils blown wide. He looked like he wanted to swallow Morty whole, and Morty was ready to surrender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I would, Rick. I’d do anything. Fuck, I want—I want so much. Want to ride you. Suck your cock. I w-want everything.” Morty pawed at Rick’s chest, caressing the muscles, running his fingers over the scars Rick had from all the adventures that had taken a wrong turn. It was so nice to be able to look at him as much as he wanted, to not be taking stolen glances and worrying if Rick would notice. He reached down and took Rick’s cock in hand, loving the heavy warmth of it, the fact that he could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> this.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-we’re going to, Morty. I promise. We’ll do all of it, okay? I can tell you’re getting anxious, but c-can you just do one more thing for me before I fuck you?” Rick pressed on his prostate, his long fingers reaching it the way Morty’s never could. Morty nodded. “Tell me something you’ve fantasized about. When you’re fucking your little fist in bed. W-when you’re safe in your room and don’t have to pretend you don’t want this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty took a deep breath, trying to fight through his horny brain fog and find the strength to make sentences. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you remember that time we took a shower together? At the spa? I kept having wet dreams about it.” Morty thought about that day so much. Both of them shedding their grimy, torn clothes and climbing into the steam, Rick’s naked, soapy body on full display. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick nodded encouragingly, peppering Morty’s neck with kisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-in the dream, you would… turn me around under the water so I was facing the tile a-and start kissing my neck and touching my dick... telling me not to move, telling me how good I was when I’d do what you said. You started—” Morty gasped as Rick tongued his ear, his fingers still driving in and out, “g-grinding against me. I could feel your dick pressed up against my ass. I put my hand on the tile, and y-you put your hand over mine. You’d t-tell me to come for you, and I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’d wake up in a puddle of your own spunk—ffuuucckkk, Morty. You’re g-gonna fuckin’ kill me, kid.” Rick withdrew his fingers and sat back on his heels, never taking his eyes off Morty as he slicked his cock. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Morty’s knee and started to slowly thrust inside. “L-let me know if it hurts too much or anything, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty blushed, feeling impossibly happy, watching Rick’s cock disappear inside him. When he was fully seated, they looked at each other, and Morty could tell they were experiencing the same thrilling sense of disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick ran his hands up and down Morty’s chest and stomach, giving his cock a few tugs on the way down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so fucking sexy. I hate it,” Rick said with a shake of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty wasn’t offended. He knew exactly what Rick meant because it was the same for him. It was amazing to hear Rick actually say it. So many things had happened that seemed undeniable (the way Rick loved to force nudity on him, the near kiss in the living room, the way he spied on Morty’s porn habits and always found ways to bring it up, Rick’s general obsession with keeping Morty all to himself), but in the end, Morty had always convinced himself he was reading too much into nothing. Rick thrived on making people uncomfortable, and that was all it was. Morty wasn’t special. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Rick buried deep inside him, biting his lip as he looked Morty up and down like he was something positively delectable, Morty didn’t have to wonder if he was making it up. Rick leaned forward, wrapping an arm underneath Morty to pull him impossibly close, and he started to leisurely thrust in and out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You feel s-so good, baby. God, why haven’t we been doing this? Wanna fuck you all time, Morty,” Rick murmured into his neck. Morty looked over his shoulder, watching the slow, sensual roll of Rick’s hips, feeling the push of it as he watched it happen. It was the fucking hottest thing he’d ever seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-we can. Whenever you want, Rick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, God—Rick—of course. I’m yours.” Morty mouthed at Rick’s shoulder, wrapping his legs around Rick’s waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-want to bend you over every fucking thing in the house. Just fuck you everywhere I can, Morty. I-I-I don’t want this to stop.” Rick’s control had all but evaporated. He was panting and moaning in Morty’s ear, sounding every bit as needy as Morty, fucking him faster, holding him so tight, Morty couldn’t tell where he ended and Rick began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I can’t believe you’re finally fucking me.” Morty nudged Rick’s cheek with his own, angling for a kiss and moaning into Rick’s mouth when he got it. “You feel so good inside me. I love you so much. I missed you so much. I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mean to leave you I wasn’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhhhh, baby. It’s okay. Grandpa’s got you. It’s okay,” Rick cooed, his voice a low soothing rumble as he kissed Morty’s face. “I love you too, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty leaned his head back, looking at Rick with wide eyes. He felt like he might start crying, and Rick just smiled back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C-come on, Morty… you have to know,” Rick whispered, his eyes soft and sincere. He kissed Morty’s lips, and Morty’s orgasm surged through him without warning, painting their sweat-slick bodies as Rick fucked him through it. “H-holy fuck—Morty, you are so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick picked up the pace, and Morty felt like he could lie there forever, an oversensitive mess in Rick’s arms, watching Rick’s face as he fucked him boneless. When Rick came, he didn’t stop looking into Morty’s eyes, and now that his own orgasm had faded, there was a nervous voice in the back of his head that wondered if Rick would regret this. Not just the sex, but the </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d been during it, everything he’d said with his eyes, his words, his body, because after this? Rick was right. There wasn’t any going back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick gingerly pulled out, and Morty whimpered, partly from the loss and partly because it hurt a little. Now that the sexual urgency was fading, everything was a bit tender down there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both grinning, awash in post-coital endorphins. Morty let out a nervous laugh, and Rick did too, waggling his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… how you feeling, baby?” Rick touched Morty’s stomach, lazily winding his fingers through his pubic hair, skimming the inside of his thigh.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. Really great. You?” Morty asked, a hint of concern in the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, happiness is about as relative and slippery as the definition of truth—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, Rick! Come on. Don’t start on this again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you quit being an impatient little prick and g-g-give an old man a damn minute, Morty? I’m trying to say something here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay okay, sorry.” Morty waved a hand to indicate he should keep talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happier than I’ve been in months, Morty. I like touching you. I even like lying here with you while you needle me about a bunch of shit I don’t wanna talk about. Even when you’re being obnoxious as fuck, I like you, and… you’re right. You deserve to hear that.” Morty searched Rick’s eyes for any sign that he was mocking him, but he couldn’t find it. “You make this old drunk happy, Morty. Okay? Will you chill out a little now? Cause you’ve been looking at me all night like I’m Lucy about to yank the football away. I-it’s really harshing my horny mellow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty beamed at him and gave him a tight hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all it takes to make you smile, kid?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re easy. But I guess I already knew that since you just spread your legs like—ow!” Rick jumped as Morty pinched his side. “You little asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They started to wrestle, but it was playful, amicable laughter as they rolled around in the backseat. Morty landed on a tube of lube, and it squirted halfway across the ship, the sticky substance landing on the windshield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s it. While we’re both in the post-fuck tranquility, what do you say we get out of here? Go somewhere with a shower and a big bed?” Rick stood up and started to put his clothes back on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, yeah. It’s k-kinda getting disgusting back here.” Morty wrinkled his nose and surveyed the now stained backseat, grabbing his clothes off the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have just the place, Morty. Bombyxon planet. Famous for their luxury hotels. Th-they’re like giant silkworms, these aliens. And they spin these threads, it’s—softest sheets you’ve ever slept on, Morty! Fuck Egyptian cotton, th-this is the finest fabric, high-highest thread count you’ll ever see. Like putting your ass on a buttered cloud.” Rick was waving his arms around enthusiastically as he went to the console to punch in coordinates. It was adorable. Morty really missed seeing Rick go on excitable rants. “And the food! Remember that whole molecular gastronomy trend a while back? Where they’d put food in tiny chemically suspended gels? Charge rich white people $300 a plate for it? Flash freezing things with liquid nitrogen? These fuckers were doing it long before any pretentious Michelin star restaurants. Th-they’re fucking artists, Morty. You’re gonna love it. We’ll fuck and get room service all night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… Rick… maybe we should…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick looked at the antidote where it was still brewing. There were only twenty minutes left on the clock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah…” Rick answered, his eyes downturned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You probably want to take this, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! That’s not what I meant.” Honestly, he had completely forgotten about the antidote. “I-I don’t wanna take that. Unless you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a chance,” Rick responded with a smile. “Now get up here, and let’s get the fuck out of dodge. Oh shit, what was it you wanted to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick pulled a lever as Morty buckled in, and the ship rose out of the clearing and into the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… we should probably call the house if we’re staying overnight somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Rick groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don’t want to do it either, but…” The thing about Rick’s tendency to take Morty away at a moment’s notice was that it was only possible if Beth allowed it. In the past, Morty had taken a back seat to his parent’s marital issues. They were always too busy dredging up the same old circular arguments about whether or not they’d wasted their lives by staying together; they rarely seemed to have time to think about Morty and Summer. Now that both Beths were around to be vigilant, the days of Rick playing fast and loose with Morty’s time, dragging him around the universe without consequence, were gone. Well… maybe not gone, exactly, but there were a whole lot of restrictions that hadn’t been there in the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck do we say? It’s not like it used to be. I can’t just bullshit my way through this, and I’m feeling kind of cock-stupid tonight thanks to this drug and your cute little ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty’s cheeks went red. It was so exhilarating to hear that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… you could say it was a birthday surprise you forgot to mention?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see you have a semen-clogged brain too, buddy. We’re-URP-fucked.” Rick pulled out his flask and took a big swig.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not necessarily. She just wants me safe and happy, right? So as long as I sound safe and happy, she’ll be okay with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ehhhh, Earth Mom? Sure. Space Mom?” Since no one was sure what to call the new Beth to avoid confusion, they’d all settled on these nicknames. Simple but effective. “Let’s hope she’s out lending her white saviour complex to some impoverished race under the boot of the Federation. If she’s visiting, we’re definitely fucked. Some real </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sin City </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rosario Dawson vibes with that undercut, Morty. Sh-she doesn’t need another reason to kill me, Morty, but she’ll gladly take one anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just do it now and get it over with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick grunted and pulled out the space phone, dialing Earth Beth’s cell and putting it on speaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to hear from you too, sweetie. I think </span>
  <em>
    <span>hello</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what you meant to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s wrong, Mom,” Morty interjected, hoping to smooth things over before they had a chance to get rocky. “We were just—er, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was just,” Morty amended, thinking better of it, “wondering if I could stay overnight with Rick and come back tomorrow? Is that okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pause, and Rick and Morty exchanged apprehensive glances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Beth, way to rip all the fun out of exploring the galaxy. H-h-how about we let </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morty</span>
  </em>
  <span> decide since this is his birthday weekend, a-a-and he should be allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty narrowed his eyes at Rick. He didn’t think this approach was doing them any favors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, Dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Rick and Morty said in unison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morty, is this what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! It’s been a while, you know? And we’re not going anywhere dangerous, I promise. Just to a fancy hotel. It sounds really nice. N-no like, death defying missions or anything, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry about that. Space me is tracking you so she’ll know if you’re going anywhere you shouldn’t be. And if you’re not back by noon tomorrow, we’ll come find you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?! Nobody tracks Morty but me, Beth!” Rick yelled, but she had already hung up. “God, this whole fucking family needs to be taken down several pegs. Who the fuck does she think she is?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean no one tracks me but you?!” Morty was incensed, but it was also kind of encouraging to see familiar old patterns emerge. Rick hadn’t staked his claim on Morty in far too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-d-don’t go into sullen teenager mode, Morty. It’s not a good look on you. I track you for your health because you’re an accident-prone little shit. I’m just looking out for you. You make a lot of bad decisions, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Morty sighed, leaning his head against the window. A hush fell over them, and after a few minutes, Rick broke it with an agitated noise in the back of his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s with the broody silence, Morty? Y-y-you preparing for that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Riverdale</span>
  </em>
  <span> audition or what? That shit I said about how happy I am was meant to quench your weird Kumbaya confessional thirst.” Morty started to answer, but Rick took a drink from his flask and kept rambling. “Or is it some ‘I love you during sex doesn’t count’ shit? B-b-because yeah, that’s usually true, but I feel like it was pretty fucking clear here. Want me to name all the times I’ve told you I loved you? Because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> said it. Just because I don’t say it incessantly like some fucking annoying insta couple doesn’t mean I don’t. If </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I clearly mean it more because I don’t feel the need to prove it all the time. Wh-what do you need? Fucking skywriting? You’ve gotten more sentimentality out of me than everyone in my life put together so maybe just be happy with that, and we can move on. Let’s fuck and eat some overpriced food without all this togetherness retreat, trust exercises nonsense getting in the way. I’m about tapped out, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done?” Morty asked with a triumphant smirk. There was something victorious about knowing that all he had to do to make Rick spin out with anxious speculation was just… not respond and watch his wheels spin ineffectually in the mud. Rick cared alright. He cared so fucking much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Morty. Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> done? We really have to do something about this fucking attitude you’re getting. Too many months away have made you forget who’s in charge here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty didn’t even touch that. It didn’t matter. Let Rick pretend he was still in charge. Morty knew otherwise, and he was pretty sure Rick knew it deep down too. They were beholden to each other. Power dynamics might oscillate, but they each got their turn. One couldn’t have power over the other without the opposite being true too. How had it taken Morty this long to really get that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t what I was thinking about, Rick. I was thinking about what you said… about me leaving you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought I told you to forget that,” Rick mumbled, staring straight ahead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you, Rick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and that makes you pretty fucking dangerous, Morty. Makes all of this dangerous.” Rick gestured between the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it’s what makes it good too. Look, I know you’ll never let this go unless we talk about it. So let’s talk about it. If you want, we’ll take the antidote after this so you don’t have to worry about any more truth serum conversations, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what do I get for doing this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The satisfaction of telling the truth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, Morty? Is this an after school special? Am I-I-I a member of the Camden family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay! Point taken…” Morty chewed his bottom lip and thought about it. “I’ll give you road head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh ho! Now that’s a negotiation. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted that? Deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that was easy. Now came the hard part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you… really think I abandoned you?” Morty asked, pins and needles of worry pricking his arms. He’d requested this conversation, but now that they were diving in, he wasn’t sure he was ready for what he’d find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> you abandoned me, Morty. I know you did. I needed you more than ever, and instead, you chose to fucking bail and for what? S-s-some teenage girl ass and all that vapid high school hierarchy bullshit? I gave you everything, Morty. I literally showed you the universe. Aladdin and his janky ass carpet ain’t got nothin’ on me, but that wasn’t enough for you, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-are you serious, Rick? You ‘showing me the universe’ was you traumatizing me on a daily basis and not giving a fuck about how it affected me. It wasn’t for my benefit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh boo fucking hoo, Morty! If I don’t care what happens to the whiny baby that lives inside your super-ego, why did I erase every memory you asked me to remove? I protect you all the time, and you’ve always been an ungrateful little shit about it. Life is terrifying and unpredictable. Most people don’t get one thousandth of the experience you used to get in a week. And that’s fine because it would be completely wasted on them. They’re too small-minded to comprehend the value of what they’re seeing. Don’t be like them. You’re better than that.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or they’re smart enough to know that some things aren’t worth the scars! Knowledge isn’t everything, Rick. Experience isn’t the end-all be-all of existence,” Morty huffed, throwing his hands up in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is for me! Everything else is pointless. A waste of my fucking time and my fucking brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that were true, you wouldn’t care about me. If everything matters so little, if it’s just a speck in a sea of meaningless bullshit, then why do you love me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’ve never felt less alone than I do when I’m with you!” Rick blurted out, promptly averting his eyes and clearing his throat as though he could pretend he hadn’t said that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick…” Morty’s heart felt like it was expanding tenfold. “I feel the same way. I just… why did you keep pushing me away then? I didn’t stop coming to you because I didn’t want to. I stopped because it seemed like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did, and I didn’t, Morty. I don’t know, okay? What do you want from me? I’m a drunk narcissistic fuck trying to outrun his own depression. You know this. And after… everything with your moms, it was like… it caught up with me all at once. And it was heavy and relentless, and nothing I did chased it away. Adventures weren’t a distraction anymore. They were a big fucking reminder of all the ways I was a piece of shit. The universe was laughing at me, and I couldn’t shut its big fucking mouth. I can’t believe I’m telling you this…” Rick rubbed his eyes with a sigh, and Morty put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t like my boring life, Rick. I was fucking miserable without you, but… I needed you to tell me I belonged with you, to drag me back like you always do. Y-you usually fight for me. You don’t let anyone tell you what we can or can’t do together, but it was like the fight was just… drained out of you. Do you remember the last time we went out together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean it, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you never wanted to take me with you ever again. You said you hated me. You said you wished you’d never come back because e-every second we spent together was proof that relationships are parasites draining the life out of people.” Morty could still picture the seething fury in Rick’s eyes, the way he’d slapped Morty’s hand away. Things had already been bad, but that was a turning point, a sign that Rick really wasn’t coming back to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember what I said, Morty. You don’t have to—I didn’t mean it, okay?! I was just upset. You know how I can be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that now, but I’m just saying… it’s hard to stay on someone’s side when even </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> aren’t on their own side. You’re not easy to love, Rick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, validating every pitiful self-loathing core belief I’ve ever had in one sentence. Real fucking nice, Morty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No no, Rick I… I didn’t say you weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>worth</span>
  </em>
  <span> loving or that you don’t deserve it. I’m just saying you make it hard, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you do. And you do it on purpose because then you’re alone and you can act like you wanted that all along. But I know that you don’t want that. Loving me isn’t a weakness, Rick. Letting me know you appreciate me isn't a weakness either. Half of those stupid relationship advice columns are people who would be fine it they just </span>
  <em>
    <span>talked</span>
  </em>
  <span> to each other, Rick. I-I guess what I’m trying to say is, yes, you’re difficult and I know you will be again, but I’m still here after everything. I like you as you are, flaws and all. I like you so fucking much I can’t see anything else. I’m sorry if it seemed like I forgot that for a while, but I didn’t. I just didn’t know what you wanted because you wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mean that?” Rick muttered, looking at Morty in his periphery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Think about all the shit we’ve seen together. I know a ton of shit that would make any sane person leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess I’m lucky you’re a dumbass, huh?” Rick cracked a small smile, and relief swelled within Morty’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-h-how are you so into this? I mean it’s been months since… and you just seem so goddamn certain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you; I hated being without you. And it gave me a lot of time to think, you know? I love you, Rick. No matter what you do. So what’s the point of fighting it? Even a bad day with you is so much better than being without you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-that’s kinda sweet, Morty.” Rick smiled broadly, and Morty moved his hand to Rick’s thigh. “Look, while we’re uh… getting it all out there… I’m kind of fucking terrified that once this drug is out of our systems, you’re gonna wallow in guilt over what we did. I-I-I don’t really want to have the full ‘what are we’ conversation right now, but… I just want you to know that I want this. Not just tonight, you know? Every night. D-d-do you want that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, yes. Rick… I’m not going to suddenly feel guilty and want to stop. I’ve been feeling guilty by myself for too long. It feels amazing to get rid of that and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you. To feel this together instead of being alone with it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess I have to believe you. You’re not smart enough to work around a truth serum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gee, I really missed the casually dismissive remarks, Rick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you did. It’s kind of our foreplay, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a little.” Morty’s hand traveled up Rick’s thigh, pressing on his crotch. “There’s no good word for what we are, is there? L-like it sounds really fucking stupid to call you my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?! And what else is there? Partner? Sounds like we’re going to Lilith Fair together, wearing peasant skirts and watching the fucking Indigo Girls.” Rick rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lover!” Morty said in an exaggerated, ambiguously European accent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh!” Rick shuddered with a laugh. “The worst! My skin is crawling. I feel like a fucking creep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a creep, Rick. You’re fucking your grandson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and what does that make you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A creep fucker,” Morty laughed, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could lean in and nibble on Rick’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sooooo, since I was such a good boy expressing all my healthy adult feelings, where’s my reward?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm, you were good, Rick. You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> good.” Rick shivered and moaned at the words, and Morty didn’t think he’d ever been more turned on in his life. How was Rick such a switch in bed? He was completely melting under Morty’s praise. “I’m gonna suck your cock now, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah,” Rick said with a jerky nod, already breathless. Morty got into position, leaning over Rick’s lap and unzipping his pants. He took Rick’s cock out and licked one long hot stripe up the length, sucking the head into his mouth and working the shaft with his hand. “Fuuucckk, can we just solve all future arguments with sex? You can manipulate me with that slutty mouth anytime, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty smiled around his mouthful, starting to bob up and down, taking more into his mouth every time. Morty was pretty sure the third wave wasn’t upon them yet. He didn’t feel any of the telltale tingles or heightened senses, but he was still starving for Rick anyway. He always was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty’s own cock filled out as he kept licking and sucking on Rick, grateful for the pressure of Rick’s hand running up and down his back. It made him want something he knew was kind of a risk. Rick was unpredictable, after all. Give him an inch, and he’d take a mile and exploit it to the ends of the Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick?” Morty lifted his head up, shyly looking at Rick from under his lashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what? Why’d you stop?” Rick looked completely ravenous. Morty didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I just—um, can you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, Morty? Spit it out, no bad joke intended.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold me down if you want? Maybe we could have a signal though? Like, if I pinch your thigh twice, I need to come up and take a breath?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit… uh, look Morty… I’d love to say I’ll obey that signal, but you make me lose control like, all the fucking time, not just when my dick is in your mouth. So if you want this, you have to deal with the possibility that I might hold you down and fuck your face until I come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The responsible thing was probably to say “no, I don’t think so,” but the way Morty’s dick was throbbing in his jeans made it impossible to do anything remotely responsible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Morty said, swallowing Rick’s cock as far down as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck! You’re—God, you’re perfect, baby. So fucking good for me.” That was the last coherent thing Rick said as he gripped the back of Morty’s head and shoved him down until Morty was nosing in his pubic hair, inhaling Rick’s intoxicating, musky scent, Rick’s hips thrusting up and down. Morty had thought this would be one of those situations that was better in theory than practice, a titillating fantasy that was messy and uncomfortable in reality, but it was actually great. Being so full, the head of Rick’s cock nudging the back of his throat, his lips stretched wide, Rick’s mindless chorus of </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was so good, Morty didn’t even care when he started to gag, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Having his limits pushed and knowing what that was doing to Rick made Morty so hard, he was shamelessly humping the seat underneath him. “I-I’m gonna come, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick held Morty all the way down as he spurted down his throat, and Morty felt so deliciously used, a sweaty mess with tears streaking down his cheeks, bits of come dripping back onto his tongue. He started to get up, but Rick grabbed him and pulled him in for a kiss, licking his lips as he looked at Morty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you look fucking wrecked.” Judging from Rick’s smirk, he was ready for round two, but Morty didn’t want to risk any accidents in the sky. He sat back in his seat and removed Rick’s wily hand from his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch where you’re driving, Rick. W-we’re gonna crash if we keep doing this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine with me. I’d rather ruin you in a bed big enough for an orgy.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck! Look at this mirror wall! I knew it. Rich people are so narcissistic; you can always count on them wanting to w-watch themselves in action. We’re gonna have so much fun with this.” Rick put his back up against the mirror lining half the wall at the foot of the bed, spreading out his arms with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Oooohh wow, okay. Maybe that guy at the front desk wasn’t just judging us for the age gap. C’mere, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty walked over, and Rick stood behind him, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around to face the mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ, Rick! I-I look like I’ve been mauled by a vacuum cleaner.” Morty’s neck was covered in hickeys and bite marks, and he could see more peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. He had a feeling that if he took the shirt off, he’d find more running down his torso.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pot meet kettle, bitch. Look at me.” Rick moved to stand next to Morty and pointed to his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t help it,” Morty said with a dreamy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me either, kid. Don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it all before we go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty’s mood darkened a few shades. He didn’t want to think about going home. What would happen when they did? How could they continue this without anyone finding out? Having to cover up all the marks they’d made was an unwelcome reminder that they couldn’t do any of this in the open.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s shower. I can smell the fucking spunk on us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathroom was the biggest Morty had ever been in, two sinks, a claw-footed tub, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> a giant shower with multiple showerheads and a bench built into the back, big enough for multiple people to sit on. They stripped and got in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the warm spray hit him, Morty realized how exhausted he was. Closing his eyes and putting his face under the stream, he felt like he could stand there for hours, letting the water run down his back. He heard something that sounded like a bottle popping open, and a few seconds later, he felt Rick’s hands on him, rubbing soothing circles into his back, reaching around and working on his stomach next. Morty opened his eyes and looked down. Foamy lather covered his belly and chest, a citrusy smell in the air. Rick was washing him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a fucking night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feels good,” Morty whispered as Rick tilted his head back and started to shampoo his hair. “I-I’m really tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick let out a low rumbling laugh, and even in his sudden exhaustion, the sound made Morty horny. Everything about Rick made him horny. It was something he couldn’t really deny anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’ll happen when you’re coming down from an alien drug and like three rounds of fucking. Not to mention all the other shit in your system.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s over?” Morty said in a lamenting whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I kind of hoped it’d last longer too, but I think we both know we don’t need an aphrodisiac to keep this up.” Rick licked along Morty’s neck and palmed his half-hard cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm.” Morty leaned back, loving the sensation of Rick’s naked body pressed against him, soapy and wet and warm, but he almost lost his balance, slipping on the tile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-whoa there, Morty. Why don’t you rinse off and get in bed? I’ll be out in a minute, okay?” Rick kissed his temple, and Morty nodded sleepily, running his hands down his arms to get rid of the last of the suds before stepping out of the shower. As he toweled off, he turned around and watched Rick’s silhouette behind the frosted glass, his sinewy arms and legs, his skinniness belying his strength. Morty’s head filled up with daydreams of a life where they could have a routine like this, sharing everyday domesticity without fear of interruption.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty collapsed face first on the bed, not bothering to get under the sheets, and hummed contentedly. Rick hadn’t been wrong about the luxury of this place. The comforter was definitely the softest thing he’d ever touched. By the time Rick came back, Morty was already drifting off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-a-at least get underneath it, baby. You’re really bushed, huh?” Rick laughed as he picked up a malleable Morty and placed him under the covers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘M sorry,” Morty mumbled, curling into the fetal position, one arm sliding under a pillow. “W-we were supposed to… fuck in front of the mirror…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got time, Morty. Take a nap.” Rick started to get up, but Morty reached out and clasped his wrist, tugging on his arm as he made a petulant noise of protest. “Jesus, y-y-you’re really fucking clingy already, you know that?”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep with me,” Morty pleaded, lifting the covers up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think we already did that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Riiiccckk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay okay, Christ! Needy little bastard.” Despite his attempts to convince Morty this was a nuisance, Rick got in and immediately scooped Morty into his arms, the big spoon to Morty’s little one. “You’re so small,” Rick murmured as he wrapped himself around Morty, slinging a leg over Morty’s hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-don’t make fun of me,” Morty said halfheartedly, sleep beginning to drag him under.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not, baby. I like it.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Morty woke up, there were a bunch of white-linen draped carts of odd-looking food at the foot of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick?” Morty rubbed his eyes as he sat up, and Rick came into the room wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, a martini glass in one hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just in time, Morty. Look at this spread!” Rick sat his glass down on the nightstand and grabbed a robe from where it was draped over an armchair, tossing it to Morty. “As much as I love seeing that twink ass—when we get home, please tell the family you’re a nudist now so I can see dat ass all the time—y-y-you gotta put on this robe. If-URP-true level made you cream your pants, you’re gonna shoot off like a rocket when you put this on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty put his arms in the sleeves of the robe and lay back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooooohhh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?! Money can’t buy happiness, my ass. Do you know how much calmer I’d be if I slipped into one of these babies every night? It’s like it’s made out of kitten fur. I’m definitely stealing it when we leave.” Rick lied down next to Morty for a second before jolting back up again. “Come on, time to eat. I’m getting high because it’s a fucking crime not to before a feast like this; do you want some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick pulled a joint and a lighter out of his robe pocket, taking a few puffs and handing it to Morty, raising an eyebrow when Morty took it without hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-y-you’re a different Morty than a few months ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a different Rick too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about that,” Rick muttered ominously as he took the joint back. They passed it back and forth, and Morty started to really feel it, that fuzzy, blissful filter falling over his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Rick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, baby?” Rick leaned back on his elbows, hanging his head back and blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. Morty didn’t think he’d ever stop blushing and getting that butterfly feeling every time Rick called him a pet name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-did you ever like… any of those times you lost your shit on me, was it just because you were angry at yourself for wanting this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morty, are you ever gonna stop Dr. Wong-ing me? I take back what I said. Y-y-you are exactly the same annoying little shit you’ve always been.” Despite Rick’s words, he looked happy about this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was just a question, Rick! I’m just curious, is all. I didn’t mean anything by it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick sighed, his features twisting into the grumpy countenance Morty knew so well, but he shrugged before gritting out, “I guess that’s probably true.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty bent over and kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For being honest with me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking sap, Morty. You c-c-can’t use positive reinforcement like I’m a dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s what you think.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty wisely kept that thought to himself, taking another drag on the joint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vat of acid,” they said in unison, laughing at the shared epiphany.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, yes,” Rick gave Morty a goofy stoned grin that only intensified Morty’s desire to kiss him, “I wanted to bend you over and fuck you so hard, fuck you until you admitted I was a genius and I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>owned</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. </span>
  <span>Totally could’ve been solved by taking this dynamite penis and going to town on that tight bussy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t ever say that again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I sounded like a fucking frat boy. R-redact that from the record.</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty mentally sorted through all the memories, the explosive arguments and the simmering tension, and he wondered how many volcanic outbursts could have been avoided if they’d just fucked it out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick took the joint back, the paper reduced to a tiny stub now, and took one long inhale, holding the smoke in as he croaked out, “open your mouth, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty did as he was told, and Rick softly held his cheek, sealing their lips and blowing smoke into Morty’s mouth. They started kissing, smoke swirling between their tongues, and the food was completely forgotten as Morty fell onto his back, Rick on top of him, his robe slipping off his slim shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird... the sort of like... super drugged part is gone? It’s not as intense when I touch you, but it’s still like... warm and buttery. That sounds so stupid, but I don’t know how else to describe it. Is the Nuptian thing really gone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like when you take psychedelics. The-the impressions stay with you. The perception shifts and what you learned from them remain even if you aren’t hallucinating anymore. But in this case, it’s designed to unlock how you feel about your partner and whatever’s holding you back in your relationship. I mean… that’s what they say, anyway,” Rick said with a shrug and a cough, rolling off Morty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are we always gonna feel like this when we touch each other?” Morty ran his hand down Rick’s chest and quivered as a bolt of arousal made its way through his body, leaving goosebumps on his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I mean, I think the idea is y-y-yes, but I’m sure it’s dependent on whether or not you’ve convinced yourself that’s what’s happening. The powers of suggestion in the brain are pretty fucking mighty if you let them run wild, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know what we were taking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick didn’t say anything for a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I say yes, are you gonna get all emo and mope about how you’re a victim of grandpa’s manipulative machinations?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick squinted at Morty like he was trying to decide if he was telling the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, yeah, I knew what it was. To be honest, I didn’t really think it would-URP-work. So no harm, no foul, especially since it, you know, isn’t supposed to be possible if the feelings aren’t already there. I figured, best case scenario, you’re back with me where you belong. Worst case, nothing happens, and I’m a miserable fuck who has to live with knowing you don’t want me. Which wouldn’t have been much of a change from the status quo, you know? Man, this is getting too intense again. What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I too high? Not high enough? Can we eat and stop with the feels fest? I need to shove something in my mouth so it stops betraying me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, let’s do it. I’m fucking starving, actually.” Rick had been so open with him; Morty didn’t want to push it, and besides, this line of inquiry had a potential to reach some pretty dark, hidden corners whose cobwebs were best untouched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too. This tiny food better be filling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, what is this thing?” Morty asked as he scooted to the edge of the bed, pointing at what looked like an oval-shaped glass dome housing a colorful array of carefully plated food. It resembled a tiny forest. “It-it’s like one of those… those things…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A terrarium?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the idea. There’s some fucking longwinded nonsense on the menu about it representing the way an entire ecosystem can be captured in stasis. Did Tolkien write the menu because the digressions are—” Rick picked up the menu and squinted. “Oh shit, this planet’s Tolkien was a pretentious chef who used to run this place. Called it! Anyway, fuck the convoluted metaphors for human greed and destruction. Touch the dome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty tapped it, and the whole thing started to collapse from the top, the casing rapidly curling into itself until it reached the bottom and dissolved into a clear sauce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whhhooaaa, I’m so glad I’m high for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They dug in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tastes didn’t correlate to appearance. A mound of what looked like soil in the fake terrarium was actually a truffle and mushroom tapenade, an orange spherical gel was actually a Sichuan pepper dish, velvety and spicy on his tongue. How could gelatin be warm and hold its shape? Everything they ate defied logic. Vapor rose from the soup like a bubbling cauldron, but the vapor turned into a solid when your spoon hit it. There was a plate of gels that contained the flavors of entire meals within them, others that were actually a cocktail in solid form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they’d finished it all, they got back under the covers, Morty delighting at how naturally they snuggled up together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How am I </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> stoned now? Are you fucked up too or is it just me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty nodded, and Rick burst out laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes are red as the devil’s dick, Morty. Fuck. Come here, my little sweet pea. My-my little love muffin.” Rick pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, how high are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m fuckin’ ripped, Morty. I thought one of those gels was walking off the plate, man. I—ow! Oh shit—fuck,” Rick groaned, sliding away from Morty and onto his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Rick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m just fucking old, Morty. And we had sex like three times in three hours, crammed in the backseat of the ship. Rub my back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have, like, a morphine drip installed in your spinal column?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you choose now to start keeping track of my canon mythology? Just get to work, Morty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty got on top of him, slipping Rick’s robe off to expose his back, and started rubbing his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-this is how we got into this mess, isn’t it?” Rick laughed softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I think you giving us Nuptian sex drugs is how we got into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potayto, potahto.” Rick waved his hand halfheartedly and moaned as Morty’s hands moved lower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Rick? Have you um… have you always slept with guys?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… not until I was like… 33? 34? I was a late bloomer with that. Not because of any internalized shame, I was just… busy thinking about other shit? And then I met Unity, and when they assimilated men, I just rolled with it. I-I-I was horny, they were hot, so I just thought ‘why the fuck not?’ Been fucking people and aliens with all sorts of parts ever since, Morty. Your grandpa has </span>
  <em>
    <span>lived.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pansexual doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Morty got hard thinking about all the myriad ways Rick had probably had sex over the decades traveling the universe. “You really get off on me getting fucked, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, it’s just so hot. You’re so… God, I just like thinking about all the ways it could go.” Morty thrust forward, his cock leaking onto Rick’s bare back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gotta stop apologizing for all the things that turn you on, Morty. Grandpa Rick likes a no judgment, no kink-shaming zone. W-we can try like—whatever you want, Morty. Want to piss on me? Done. Want to tie me up? Great. Want me to tie you up and edge you for hours with sex toys from different planets? Even better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absofuckinglutely, babe.” Rick looked over his shoulder, flashing Morty a lewd grin. “Now, what about you, horny little munchkin? You like cocks or just mine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… don’t know? I haven’t thought about it that much. Mostly I just think about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been some embarrassing dates with Jessica that Morty would rather forget. He’d lusted after her for so long that he just assumed everything would fall into place when they were finally together, but a couple of fumbling sessions in her bedroom made it clear there was something wrong with Morty. At first, everything that happened between them was tame enough that Morty could fake it, making breathy moans as he kissed her and felt her up over her shirt. He convinced himself that the detachment he felt was normal; he just needed to get into the swing of things. It was just nerves, and they’d go away once he had more practice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then things had gotten more heated, Jessica’s hands always reaching lower and lower. He stopped it from going further, not wanting her to find out that he couldn’t get hard, but eventually, she looked so disappointed, her eyes so full of self-doubt that made Morty’s guilt grow exponentially. He wanted to chase it all away. After all, it wasn’t her fault he was a dysfunctional mess who wanted to fuck his grandpa. So he let her try, conjuring images of Rick to get through it, hoping it would stave off any mishaps until he could finally turn things around in his screwed up brain, rewiring the connections so he could get hard with a pretty girl like he was supposed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fake it until you make it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except it didn’t work, and eventually they broke up. Morty kissed someone else: Katie, a beautiful new girl who had just transferred to his school, bright blue eyes and the kindest, most inviting smile. But it was the same ugly, mortifying story. Nothing but dead, stagnant air where connection was supposed to be. Morty gave up, figuring he would just be dissatisfied and empty his whole life, yearning for something… some</span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> he couldn’t ever possibly have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. I don’t have any exciting stories to tell like you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a selfish fuck, Morty. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>glad</span>
  </em>
  <span> you don’t have any stories. I meant what I said. I don’t want anyone to touch you but me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was like a match to the powder keg of desire inside Morty. Rick’s possessiveness made him feel so safe and wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you… are you gonna sleep with anyone else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Rick turned around until he was on his back and could look Morty in the eye. “You think I’m gonna fuck around on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know… You just never seemed like the monogamous type.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick shrugged, but it wasn’t an indignant shrug. More of a matter-of-fact gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair, but this is different. It’s just you and me, Morty. A hundred years Rick and Morty, remember? That’s the way it’s supposed to be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick, I don’t wanna go back. I just wanna stay with you. I wish we could just do whatever we want without anyone bothering us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just described my whole life philosophy, Morty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we gonna do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know…” Rick rubbed Morty’s upper arm, an apologetic note to his eyes. “We have to go back. For now, anyway. Space Mom would hunt us down. We need more of a plan than just disappearing right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you... want to disappear with me though?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than anything, kid. Fuck everyone else. They’ll try to tear us apart, but that’s why I want to get the scheming brain fully turned on before we do anything. We have to make sure we do this right. And besides I… want to give you time to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick, you don’t even know how much I…” Morty couldn’t articulate it, but maybe he could show him. “Can I just…” He didn’t know how to ask. What he wanted wasn’t a clearly defined thing. It wasn’t an act that fit into a definitive box. It was a feeling, a state of being, a supplication he wanted to immerse himself in until he’d translated the prayer inside him into something Rick could understand. “You’re so beautiful, Rick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick turned his head, pressing his cheek to the pillow, just the way Morty knew he would, but Morty clasped his chin and turned Rick’s face back toward him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said we could do anything together, Rick. Why won’t you let me tell you how beautiful you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a sex act, Morty. It’s not a preference. It’s just—saccharine bullshit. Romance is for idiots, Morty. It’s what people tell each other to avoid the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why does it scare you so much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick’s lower lip started to tremble, but he stared back at Morty with unwavering eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can’t play chicken with me when you’re the one who’s afraid to look, Rick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love your eyes,” Morty whispered, running his fingers down Rick’s cheek. “You don’t use them to hide like other people do. You just wear whatever you’re feeling. I can always tell. It’s like… they’re so intense, they feel like they could burn me sometimes. Like if I looked too long, I wouldn’t be able to get away. And that scares the shit out of me. It always has. I used to not be able to look you in the eye. D-did you ever notice that? When we first started going on adventures?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick swallowed audibly, his eyes darting back and forth, taking in Morty’s face, something portentous and wild in his irises. Finally, he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got over it, but not really. It’s more like I just accepted how dangerous it was. And that’s how it’s been for everything between you and me. It’s not about changing it. It’s not about making it less scary. It’s just about jumping in and holding your breath until everything slows down, and you just feel like… like the only thing scarier than letting go is always wondering what would have happened if you hadn’t. And now… now, I can’t imagine not looking into your eyes every goddamn chance I get. All those times I didn’t… I wish I could go back and look.” He smoothed Rick’s hair back from his forehead, stroking down his face until his hand rested on Rick’s neck. Morty could tell from the way Rick’s neck was quivering, his eyes fluttering open and closed, that he was trying not to cry. He wanted to ask him if he was okay, but he knew that would be a grave mistake. It was a delicate line he was walking, everything suspended on fragile wisps of spun sugar, a spindly thing you could crush in your fist without even trying. Instead, he just started covering every inch of Rick with delicate, worshipful kisses. The side of his neck, his clavicle, the curve of his shoulder—hard and soft all at once. “I love your arms too. You haven’t held me a lot, but you’re always so much sweeter about it than anyone would think you’d be. And I know that’s a choice because I’ve seen what you can do with these arms. You can kill or you can love with them, and they’re amazing,” Morty murmured into Rick’s skin, kissing his bicep, moving down to the bit of wrinkled skin gathered just before the crook of his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morty… stop it,” Rick whispered hoarsely. Morty looked up and saw that Rick’s eyes were closed. He was taking deep, steadying breaths and clenching his fists in the sheets. Morty continued down Rick’s forearm, pressing a soft kiss to the thin skin on the inside of Rick’s wrist, turning over his hand and kissing the back of it, the fleshy space between his thumb and forefinger, each knuckle, the skin always a little dry and rough there, ravaged by all the chemicals Rick worked with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have amazing hands. These long fingers,” Morty licked across the calloused pads of each one, teasing with the tip of his tongue, encouraged by every moan Rick made. He took two fingers into his mouth, sucking the way he’d sucked on Rick’s cock, tracing every contour with his tongue, fucking his mouth with Rick’s fingers until they reached the top of his throat. Rick was panting now, his breaths coming out labored and shaky. Morty pulled off with a wet pop. “I love watching your hands when you work. It’s like a dance or something, l-like you’re playing an instrument. You’re so careful and fast. You can do all these intricate little things, handling everything so gently, but like everything about you, they can be deadly too. It’s really fucking hot, Rick. It drives me crazy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love your stomach. I used to fantasize about kissing it all the time. Licking my way down,” Morty left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down Rick’s torso, veering to the left when he reached his navel, bathing the dip next to his hipbone in little kitten licks. Rick shivered and gasped underneath him, his back rising off the mattress a little, his fingers still gathering fistfuls of sheet. “I love every part of you, Rick. Just let me show you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and vigorously shook his head, a tear finally escaping out of the corner of his eye. Morty crawled up his body until they were face to face, his arms caging Rick’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick, look at me,” Morty said quietly, a soothing coax, the kind he might use with a frightened stray cat. Rick kept his eyes shut, breathing in ragged spurts. “Rick… please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty cupped his face, his thumb rhythmically brushing across Rick’s cheekbone. When Rick’s eyes cautiously fluttered open, his lashes were wet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why won’t you let me love you like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it—” Rick closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth, and opened them again. “I don’t want to talk anymore, Morty. I-I’m not going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> about this. Please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Morty did what he always did. He looked into Rick’s eyes and searched for everything he knew Rick wouldn’t ever say. Maybe Rick didn’t think he deserved this. Maybe this made him feel guiltier than anything else they’d done because it was too raw and real, nothing to hide behind, nothing that could be interpreted any other way, nothing that could be disguised as anything other than what they both knew it was. Maybe no one had ever treated him like this before, and maybe Rick didn’t like to think about why that was, why it couldn’t have ever been this way with anyone other than Morty. Morty supposed it was all of these things rolled into one thorny package Rick couldn’t touch without pricking his fingers, and being with Morty unearthed those cursed fragments one at a time. Being with someone who truly sees you… it makes them your mirror, and sometimes we’re not ready to see that. “But will you let me keep doing this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty stroked up and down Rick’s sides, and Rick nodded, an almost shy tilt of his head, an indication of trust from someone who isn’t sure they’re ready for what’s next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Morty whispered, planting a kiss on Rick’s forehead before returning to his stomach, kissing further down, leaving no spot untouched, taking his time with the tender skin on the inside of Rick’s thighs and making his way down one calf, kissing the inside of Rick’s bony ankle. Morty was so achingly hard now, he couldn’t help but reach between his legs to grasp his dick, groaning at the cool relief of his own hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mor-Morty.” Rick’s voice was raspy and weak; it was the closest to begging that Morty had ever heard from him. “Come up here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick grabbed at Morty with a kind of ungainly desperation, and Morty wanted him so bad, he couldn’t think straight. He obeyed, and Rick bruised his mouth with ardent kisses. Rick’s cock ended up between Morty’s legs, and every time it bumped against his ass, Morty ached to be filled with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I wanna eat you out, Morty. Sit on my face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh…” Morty went scarlet and stared at a spot just below Rick’s collarbone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Feeling shy now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, w-well—that’s like—a really vulnerable position to be in?” With the aphrodisiac completely gone, Morty’s self-conscious nature was creeping back in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s gonna feel sooooo good, Morty. I’m gonna lick you in ways you never imagined,” Rick huskily whispered in Morty’s ear, his fingers slipping between Morty’s cheeks, brushing across his hole. “Come on, y-you made all that fuss about me letting you do what you wanted. Let me eat your ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He supposed it was only fair. He turned around and wriggled up the bed until he was straddling Rick’s chest, his ass only a few inches away from Rick’s face. “Um—should I just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick answered by wrapping his hands around Morty’s thighs and pulling him down until Morty felt Rick’s wet, hot tongue swiping across his hole. He’d expected it to be strange and uncomfortable, but as soon as Rick started lapping at the furled skin, Morty dissolved into a puddle of goo, uttering a litany of embarrassing moans, his thighs quaking from the effort to hold him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, baby? Gr-grandpa knows how to take care of you. Y-you love it, don’t you?” Before Morty could respond, Rick dove back in, spreading Morty’s cheeks apart, moaning as he licked up and down, tracing circles around Morty’s rim until he finally plunged the tip of his tongue inside. Morty didn’t know what he liked better: Rick fucking his ass with his tongue or the fact that Rick was humping the air and moaning like he wanted to live and die with his tongue inside Morty. “F-fuck, you taste so good. You-you’re so tight and soft and warm I—can I fuck you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I need you inside me, Rick.” Morty didn’t mean to buck back onto Rick’s face, but he was reaching that mindless point of no return. His body was calling the shots for him now. Rick didn’t seem to mind; he bathed Morty’s hole in a few more broad, flat stripes of his tongue. Morty was practically dripping now. Every stroke of Rick’s tongue sounded more obscene than the last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, got a bit—um—distracted. I could eat you out all night,” Rick confessed, running his tongue across Morty’s hole one more time before nudging him away. Morty lay down on his back, but Rick shook his head, grabbing some lube from where he’d left it on the nightstand and moving to the foot of the bed, lying across it instead of lengthwise. He crooked a finger and beckoned Morty to him. Morty crawled over, and Rick let out a low whistle. “Damn, there’s nothing like watching you crawl naked on all fours. I-I-I hope you don’t have any plans for the next, like, three months, because the only thing I’m gonna be inventing is new ways to make you come so hard, you blackout. I just want to lock you in a room and fuck you all day, every day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful what you wish for, Morty. Okay baby, you’re gonna ride me, and,” Rick sat up and held Morty’s chin between thumb and forefinger, turning his head until he was looking into the mirror lining most of the wall, “you’re gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>watch</span>
  </em>
  <span> while you fuck yourself on my cock.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty choked out a high-pitched whine, equal parts embarrassment and desire (two concepts he was starting to realize were inextricably linked for him). Judging from Rick’s smirk, he knew exactly what Morty was thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick squirted some lube into Morty’s palm, and Morty dutifully slathered Rick’s erection in the sticky substance, covering it from root to tip. He straddled Rick’s lap and lifted up on his knees, slowly lowering himself onto Rick’s dick. It was deeper from this angle; he felt so full and stretched that he had to stop halfway through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your time, Morty,” Rick said softly, running his hands up and down Morty’s arms. When Morty looked at him, the awestruck gleam in Rick’s eyes made his chest feel tight. He sank the rest of the way down, groaning a little from the burn. For a moment they just stayed like that, neither of them moving, Morty’s hands on Rick’s chest, playing with his nipples and stroking his taut stomach, Rick’s large palms covering the tops of Morty’s thighs. Slowly, carefully, Morty rose up on his knees again and came back down, letting out a yelp of surprise when Rick’s cock hit him in just the right spot. “Yeeeaahh, that’s it, Morty. See? You can just use me like your toy. Just fuck yourself exactly the way you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rush of heat went straight to Morty's dick. He didn’t know how he was going to survive Rick’s dirty talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty started to move up and down more quickly, his movements less shaky and uncertain, and it felt so fucking good, he didn’t know how he’d lived this long without it. One thing was sure: finally having this didn’t get it out of his system. It just made him crave it more, the pangs of need that much sharper and harder to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“F-fuck, look at you bouncing on my cock and loving it. Oh Morty, I—I can’t even—you don’t even know how—” Rick sounded as wrecked as Morty felt. “But you’re not doing what I asked you to, sweetheart. Open your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty didn’t even realize he’d closed them. He did as Rick asked and turned his head to watch, expecting to be so uncomfortable that he’d immediately avert his eyes, but instead he was mesmerized. It wasn’t as self-involved as Morty had thought. It was less about admiring yourself and more about watching what was happening, watching the way you moved together, feeling Rick’s cock driving inside him and </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeing</span>
  </em>
  <span> it happen at the same time, looking at the image and knowing it wasn’t a mirage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, you look so—we’re—” Morty fumbled for the right words but nothing came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Rick moaned, holding Morty’s hips and started to thrust up into him, looking into the mirror. Morty looked at Rick’s eyes reflected back at him, Rick’s hands exploring his body, and it was almost too much. “F-fucking look at us, Morty. You and me. My Morty…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Rick,” Morty gasped, and although it had just been a mundane phrase before, a casual, clarifying thing Morty had never thought too hard about, it felt so special and untouchable now. Rick was his, and Morty was Rick’s. In ways that were endless and immeasurably huge, stretching through dimensions and timelines in every direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick sat up and wrapped his arms around Morty, holding him close and covering his neck with kisses. Morty kept watching their mirror images, his eyes tracing every movement Rick made, every swipe of his tongue, every undulation of his hips. Morty started to grind down harder, and Rick met his every thrust, his hand reaching down to fist Morty’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna come, aren’t you? I can feel it. Y-you get this little wrinkle right here,” Rick touched the space between Morty’s eyebrows with the tip of his finger, “like you’re concentrating, like you’re trying to hold on and make it last. And everything goes so tight and tense back here,” Rick murmured into Morty’s ear, placing his palm on Morty’s lower back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick already knew his body so well, and Morty supposed that wasn’t really surprising. All the adventures they’d gone on together, the way they were nearly telepathically in sync sometimes, their body language communicating everything they needed to do during so many narrow escapes from enemies over the years. They already knew each other inside and out. This was just a new facet of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty spilled over Rick’s hand, his ass clenching around Rick’s cock, and he felt Rick follow him almost right away, his cock spurting inside him. He watched Rick’s enraptured face in the mirror as he went over the edge, and somehow it was different than actually watching him. It was like seeing the same thing but spinning the perspective a quarter turn. Even though he was actually there with Rick, Morty felt like a voyeur looking from the outside in, and it was irresistibly hot. He definitely wanted to do this again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed there for a minute, sighing happily as Rick held him close, running his hands up and down Morty’s back. When they separated, crawling back up to the top of the bed, Rick laced his fingers behind his head, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he looked up at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so relaxed,” Morty said, resting his head on Rick’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congrats, Morty. You figured out that men are-URP-more placid after they come. Your medal in evolutionary biology is in the mail.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty laughed. The thing about Rick’s little jabs is that sometimes they were less about belittling and more about sneaking in an affectionate admittance under the guise of an insult. Had it always been that way or had it just evolved into that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-why are you laughing? Shouldn’t you be cocking your tiny hip in defiance, giving me that patented Morty glare, the one that can’t ever be threatening because you’re so small and adorable?” Rick joked, tickling Morty’s ribs. Morty squirmed and swatted Rick’s hand away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?” Morty yawned and stretched his arms above his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick plucked one of his watches from the nightstand, glanced at it, and set it back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About 2:30. Fuck, we better get some sleep. I-if I bring you back looking like you were up all night drinking and fucking, everything is going to be ten times worse for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Morty felt a forlorn tug in the depths of his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think about it, baby. Come here.” Rick pulled Morty closer, and Morty folded into his side, his leg resting on Rick’s stomach, his arm wrapped around his chest. “I-I can’t make too many predictions about how this is going to go. It’s not an easy secret to keep under wraps, what we’re doing here, b-but I can promise you one thing, Morty. I won’t let anyone take you away from me, okay?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Rick’s heartfelt promise drifting into his ears, Morty let sleep drag him under, content to worry about the rest in the morning.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gr-great conversationalist. Dorothy Parker know about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm.” Morty slumped in his seat, resting his cheek against the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick yanked a lever and parked the ship in the middle of the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what the fuck is your problem? Remember how I said I didn’t want you to sober up and feel guilty about all this and turn on me? And you said </span>
  <em>
    <span>you definitely wouldn’t?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rick’s words came out clipped and harsh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that, Rick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-well, would you mind giving me a little insight into what brought on this pensive window-staring? Y-you look like you’re about to put on some Morrissey and cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just… I don’t get it, Rick. You don’t adapt to other people; you make them adapt to you. If you don’t want to be found, then you make it so no one can find you. Why do you want to wait and make a plan? Why can’t we just disappear together right now? You’re impulsive. You do what you want.” It was something that had been bothering Morty ever since Rick said it, but between the excitement of the sex and all of the things they’d hashed out last night, he hadn’t had much time to mull it over. Now, in the sober light of day, heading ever closer to home and whatever fate awaited them, it was all Morty could think about.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, am I? Have you not noticed that a lot of the shit I do that </span>
  <em>
    <span>seems</span>
  </em>
  <span> impulsive to certain people who can’t get their heads out of their asses is actually a plan they can’t grasp because I’m always ten steps ahead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that true? Or do you just spin the narrative to fit the story you want when everything’s done so it just </span>
  <em>
    <span>looks</span>
  </em>
  <span> like you had a plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Morty, i-it seems you’re under the mistaken impression that just because I love you and love putting my dick inside you, you’re now granted impunity whenever you piss me the fuck off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rick, just tell me why! What changed? Why are you scared to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not</span>
  <em>
    <span> scared,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Morty. Consequences don’t scare me. Nothing does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Except me leaving you. Or me deciding I feel too guilty to keep fucking you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They stared at one another for a long, tense minute, both coiled balls of ire threatening to unwind and collide in a spray of angry sparks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> do anything, Morty. There’s no easy, uncomplicated way to slide from blood relatives to people who fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I thought you said you-you wanted this more than anything. Are you—are you gonna end it when we get home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus! How many times do I have to—” Rick let out an exasperated huff and slapped his hand to his forehead. “You’re the one who should be reassuring me! When is my turn to be needy for validation 24/7? First off, with this bonding chemical, me leaving is the last thing you should be worried about. You feel that painful, nagging urge? The way you want to be around me so fucking bad? L-like it’ll be excruciating if we’re separated? That’s because it will be. When all this started, I told you this drug would make everything we feel that much worse. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what I meant. Those connections are deepened now, and it’s going to stay that way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the only reason? The drug is keeping you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Fuck!” Rick leaned back, his head thumping against the seat. “Have you not been listening?! I won’t leave because I don’t want to, okay? I was already in love, and then I went and </span>
  <em>
    <span>willingly</span>
  </em>
  <span> tied myself to you. Me, Morty! Me! I don’t have to tell you how significant that is. We have each other by the balls, Morty. It goes both ways now, and I made that happen. It’s going to be rough, yes, but I’m staying. Remember when you went on about watching my hands? I’m an alcoholic with shaky coordination, Morty. That control you’re seeing is deceptive. I-it takes all the concentration I have to solder intricate, tiny wires to circuit boards. It’s not something natural and effortless, but I don’t puss out just because something’s difficult, you feel me, Morty? I-I’m not your wet blanket of a father. I’m Rick fucking Sanchez. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> me saying no. I’m just being practical about it. I’m just saying let me think about it with something other than my dick and get back to you. We’ll figure it out. Remember? I’m the cocky sonofabitch who can do anything, the one who’s sooooo fond of reminding you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morty beamed at Rick. He was so fucking in love, it felt like it might split him in two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Rick. I-I’m sorry I got worried. I don’t doubt you, really, I don’t. It-it just felt like there was something you weren’t telling me is all. And I couldn’t shake that feeling, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick’s mouth flattened into a tight line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a perceptive little fucker now, and I hate it. I really played myself with this one. Look, Morty… you’re not wrong. Something did change. Don’t freak out! I just… when we get home, I have something to show you.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, Rick…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Rick clicked the remote, and the projector screen inched back up into its perch on the ceiling. “Feast on what a piece of shit father I am.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve just been living with this for months? You haven’t told anyone all this time?” Morty felt like he’d swallowed a bitter, heavy stone. So even Rick didn’t know who was the clone and who wasn’t… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You all made it abundantly clear you didn’t want to know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I... fuck, you’re right. We did.” Morty walked over and hugged Rick tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you hugging me?” Rick’s arms hung limply at his sides, but eventually he threaded them around Morty’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you need it. And because I love you.” Morty pulled back to look at him. All of that time Rick had been isolated and hurting over this, and Morty hadn’t been there for him. Not really. He should have noticed. He should have figured it out and done something. “Rick, I’m so, so sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m the only one who should be sorry here, Morty. Were you paying attention to all of that?!” Rick waved his arms toward the space where the screen had hung just moments ago. “Your mom put her faith in me to decide this, and I j-just acted like a callous fucking coward, removing the memory like I-I’m—well, not to keep beating a dead horse, here, but like I’m Jerry!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because you did something bad doesn’t mean you don’t deserve someone to talk to about it, Rick. It—it really sucks, okay? It’s not great. I’m not going to deny that, but it’s done and over with. And we’re all good. Both of my moms are kind of happier than they’ve ever been, and you and me,” Morty held each of Rick’s hands in his, “we’re on our way to being better than we’ve ever been too. I know you hate being therapized, but like—the best thing I ever learned in Dr. Wong’s office is that you can’t ignore your past mistakes but you also can’t self-flagellate over them forever. You have to face them, process the shit, and then move on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick sat down on the stool by his workbench and gave Morty a sly look, his lips twisting in a strange half smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about, Rick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How I’m completely fucked because the person who understands me the most in this world, the one I’m completely in love with, is my grandson. And to make matters worse, he’s a cocky little shit about it. How’s your day going?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m in love with my seventy-year-old grandpa, and if I ever tried to date anyone else, they’d just be a poor excuse of a substitute for him. But other than that, I’m okay.” Morty sat on Rick’s lap and slung his arms around Rick’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guy sounds like a real piece of work.” Rick swept his hand through Morty’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is... but he’s worth it when you really get to know him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure about that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely. I’ve had a long time to think about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like the hold you have on me, Morty. Scares the shit out of me—and before you pull out your gotcha card, yes, I’m aware it’s only been like twenty minutes since I said I don’t get scared—but when it comes to this? I do get a little fucking spooked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think it’s not the same for me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick narrowed his eyes, and he seemed to weigh that out before softening a bit, warmth trickling back into his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate giving a shit, Morty. It fucking sucks. I don’t want you to lose your family at my expense. Not anymore. And that’s a complication I wasn’t counting on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be careful. And when it’s time for me to move out of this house, I move out with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s that easy, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking about that.” Morty gave Rick a quick kiss and smiled. “We need to rebrand Rick and Morty adventures.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are you talking about? Is tiny </span>
  <em>
    <span>American Psycho</span>
  </em>
  <span> back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re doing things that help me, that teach me something, that seem like they’re working towards a life plan, no one will care that you’re taking me along. Think about it. The thing that worries my parents the most is that I’m just fucking up in school and won’t figure out what to do with my life. Be the person who gives them a solution to that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we take all the fun out of adventures? Like an R rated movie edited for tv? Are you fucking kidding me, Morty? The universe is dangerous and endless and unfathomable. That’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>point. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'm not sanitizing it. I don’t even know if that’s possible. We’ve nearly gotten killed getting ice cream. Shit happens in the most seemingly innocuous of places.” Rick crossed his arms and leaned back against the workbench. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not saying that. I’m saying we give a convincing appearance, no matter the reality. I mean yes, ease up on the intentionally perilous shit because there is </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> of that, Rick, don’t bother denying it. We do that but also mix in a little deception. You’re good at that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also known as kowtowing to everyone else’s boring standards,” Rick muttered under his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s called compromise. Doing whatever the fuck you want whenever you want to hasn’t worked out that well, has it? Adjust your expectations, Rick. You’re always making everyone adjust to yours. And they don’t have to know everything. We can do what we want if we just make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>seem</span>
  </em>
  <span> like something else. I don’t have the brain for figuring out the details, but you do. So do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to long con your parents into letting you act out your life plan of being your grandpa’s boyfriend?” Rick smirked, folding his hands behind his head. He almost looked impressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” Even though they’d both claimed that term was ridiculous, hearing Rick say “boyfriend” made Morty warm and fuzzy all over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a devious little fucker, Morty. P-people think you’re sweet as pie, but there are shards of fucking glass hidden in that pie. I love it so much.” Rick grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Fuck… thinking about us Bonnie and Clyde-ing it all over the galaxy while they think I’m prepping you f-for a life with a comfortable job in a boring ass lab I just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm-hmm,” Morty murmured, his mouth falling open as Rick teased at his lips with the tip of his tongue. “You’re such a fucking good kisser. How does it always feel like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but we better get out of here before they get suspicious. We’re p-pushing our luck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could always make some clones and send them out into the living room. Cause it worked so well last time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too soon, Morty!” Rick gave Morty’s ass a quick smack, and they exchanged a lascivious look before shaking their heads and separating. If they kept this up, they’d never make it out of the garage. “Once more unto the breach?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick bent his arm at the elbow and offered it to Morty. Morty linked arms with him and smiled. He knew better than to think this would be a smooth ride, but he didn’t care. The bumps were half the fun of the rollercoaster that was life with Rick, and besides, Morty wasn’t alone. He knew he never would be again. </span>
</p>
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